In a surprisingly short space of time the news was in every mouth. It drew the idlers of Grimleigh hot-footed to the half-reaped meadow where the still lay amongst the corn. But the police, having received early notice, were quickly on the spot, and drew a round the poor , that they might in no way be . Beyond this, the crowd of fishers and labourers broke into excited groups, arguing and theorizing.  
"I 'um," said a grey-headed ; "eh, I smelt 'um. 'Tis a very bad smell, sure."
 
"'Tis wonder mun was not found afore, William Lee."
 
"You be a fule, George Evans. The poor lass was bedded out in the middle of the field wi' the corn thick about her. Nor smell nor sight could come to sich as passed on the road."
 
"But the must ha' dragged o'er the wheat-ears, and so they'd bin beat down. Now, if one saw sich----"
 
"They would think 'twas the rain or God Almighty's wind, George Evans. Eh, and who would look for mun in a cornfield? He who killed yon maiden was cliver for sure."
 
"And who did that, William Lee?"
 
No one was or daring to answer this question. Eyes looked into eyes, heads were shaken at heads, but the labourers could guess neither by whom, nor for what reason, the girl had been killed. Mayne alone made an attempt to solve the mystery as he escorted Rachel to her home.
 
"I wonder what Mr. Johnson knows of this?" said he, suddenly.
 
Rachel looked at him in surprise. "I don't see what he can know of it, Herbert; the poor girl left his house while he was out."
 
"Quite so; but he followed her!"
 
"How do you know?"
 
"I was coming up from Grimleigh on the night Bithiah disappeared. As I climbed that path which goes to the field, I met our coming from it. He looked wild-like, and tore past me like a storm-wind. I did not know then what he was after; now I make sure he was in search of Bithiah."
 
"Not to kill her, Herbert," cried Rachel, ; "not to kill her!"
 
"No; I don't say that, Rachel."
 
"He had no reason to kill her, you know. He loved her. A man does not kill the woman he loves. A minister, set high as an example to the congregation, does not break the sixth commandment."
 
Rachel turned on Mayne with a look of in her usually mild eyes. "Herbert Mayne, for shame!" she cried furiously. "Shame upon you that you say such things! I would as soon believe my own father killed Tera, as Mr. Johnson."
 
"I don't want to accuse the pastor," said Herbert, gloomily; "but if he does not know how she came by her death, who does?"
 
"I believe that Bithiah, or Tera, as I should call her, carried away her pearls on that night, and was killed by some tramp who wished to rob her."
 
"How would a tramp know that Bithiah carried three thousand pounds worth of pearls?" retorted Herbert, sharply. "Your statement only strengthens the case against Mr. Johnson. He alone knew that Bithiah had the pearls with her. He----"
 
"A case against Mr. Johnson?" interrupted Rachel. "There is no case against him. How dare you talk like this?"
 
"It is merely a theory."
 
"It is envy and , Herbert Mayne. Here I am at home. I shall not ask you to come in; you have spoken too cruelly of our pastor. Go away, and ask God for a new heart--a spirit. I am ashamed of you."
 
Rachel entered the house and closed the door in Herbert's face. He stood where he was for a moment. Then he turned and walked back to the field. In spite of Miss Carwell's denunciation, he bore no ill will towards the minister. He only theorized on the sole evidence which he . Johnson loved Tera, and she loved Finland. Johnson was in desperate need of money, and Tera had run away, and, on the very night of her departure, he had met Johnson on the path near the very cornfield in which the body had been found. The evidence, circumstantial if it was, clearly to Johnson's being more or less . "I don't say that he either stole the pearls or killed the girl," Herbert, as he strode along. "I merely think he must in some way be connected with the matter, or at least know something about it. At all events, it will be for him to explain how he came to be in that particular place on that particular night. Sooner or later the police are bound to question him."
 
When he reached the field, Herbert found that Chard had arrived from Poldew. By his directions the body of Tera was carried into Grimleigh, and there laid out in an empty building close to the police-office. Notified that the dead woman was Mr. Johnson's , Mr. Inspector, after making a few , paid a visit to the minister. As luck would have it, he met him coming out of his garden. He looked somewhat scared, and when he saw Chard's uniform he hastened towards him.
 
"What is this? what is this?" he asked hurriedly. "I hear that a terrible crime has been committed."
 
"Yes, sir," said Chard, with military brevity. "Are you Mr. Johnson?"
 
"That is my name. But this murder----"
 
"I have come to speak to you about it, Mr. Johnson."
 
"To speak to me!" repeated the minister, whose face looked and painfully white. "Why! what have I to do with it?"
 
"Don't you know who has been murdered?" asked Chard, with a keen glance.
 
"No; how should I? My mother was in the town just now, and returned with a story of some crime having been committed. She is rather deaf, and heard no details. I was coming to the police-office to make inquiries."
 
"I will answer all your inquiries now, sir. Please take me within doors."
 
"But who are you?" asked Johnson, who did not recognize the officer.
 
"Inspector Chard, of the Poldew police-office. I come to ask you a few questions."
 
"About what?" said Johnson, conducting the inspector into the study.
 
"About the dead woman."
 
"Ah!" Johnson dropped into his chair with a . "A woman! The victim, then, is a woman?" He looked swiftly at the stern police officer, and passed his tongue over his dry lips. "What questions can I answer? I know nothing of this poor soul."
 
"Pardon me, sir, but I think that is not quite correct," replied the inspector, dryly. Then, with an observant eye, "The dead woman is, I believe, a native girl who----"
 
"Tera!" Johnson leaped up and the name. "Tera!" he repeated, and dropped back into his chair, "I--I knew it!"
 
"You knew it?" echoed the inspector, upon the admission. "And how did you know it? Be careful, sir--for your own sake, be careful."
 
But the minister was him not at all. Indeed, in his then state of mind it is whether he even heard the man. Certainly he in no wise took in the meaning of the warnings. "Tera!" he moaned, resting his forehead on the table. "Oh, Bithiah!"
 
"Who is Bithiah?" asked Chard, still on the alert for any clue.
 
"Bithiah is Tera," said Johnson, lifting his haggard face. "When we received her into the fold we named her Bithiah. And now she is dead--dead! Who killed her?" he demanded, with a sudden fierceness.
 
"That is what I wish to learn, Mr. Johnson; and if you will be so good as to answer my questions, we may perhaps arrive at some clue to lead us to the discovery of the assassin."
 
The minister wiped the from his forehead and drew a long breath. Chard could see that the man's nerves were shattered, and that he was suffering from severe mental excitement and physical .
 
"How long have you been ill?" asked the inspector, suddenly.
 
"I am not ill; I am worried."
 
"Oh!"
 
There was a world of meaning in Chard's ejaculation.
 
"Then how long have you been so worried?"
 
"I don't know."
 
"Shall we say a month?"
 
By this time the minister was beginning to see that there was something strange in the officer's attitude.
 
"Why a month?" he asked, as a new fear filled him.
 
"The body we found has been lying in the field for quite a month."
 
"Man!" cried Johnson, with a wild stare, "you don't mean to infer that I killed her?"
 
"I--I infer nothing, sir. I am here to information--to ask questions, not to answer them. This dead woman was your ward. She left you, as I understand, a month ago, and has not been heard of since. To-day we find her dead body in a cornfield belonging to Mr. Carwell. It is my duty to learn how she came there--how she came to be strangled."
 
"Strangled! Was she strangled?"
 
"Yes," said Chard, dryly; "she was strangled, and her body was hidden in the thick of the standing corn. A very clever method of . I don't think I ever heard of a cornfield being used for such a purpose before. Moreover," and Mr. Inspector leaned forward, "the body has been robbed."
 
"Robbed!"
 
"Yes--the pearls, you know."
 
"The pearls?" repeated Johnson, vacantly. "Oh yes, the pearls. But what are they--what is anything compared with her death? Oh! I loved her, how I loved her! And she is dead!" He leaned his head on his hands and wept.
 
Chard was becoming a trifle impatient. The man was in such a state of mental excitement and physical debility, that it seemed unlikely he would prove of much use--at present, at all events. Still, he was the person of all others from whom details regarding the past life of the dead girl could best be learned; and in her past life might be found a sufficiently strong to lead to some clue. Ever prepared for emergencies, Chard produced a of brandy from his pocket, and pouring a little of it into a cup, handed it to Johnson. As the odour of the spirit struck his , the minister with a look of disgust.
 
"I am an abstainer," said he, waving it away.
 
"That may be," rejoined Chard, ; "but you are all broken up and weak now. 'A little wine for the stomach's sake,' as St. Paul says. You can hardly go against St. Paul, sir. Drink it," he added, sharply. "I insist upon your drinking it."
 
"You have no right to speak to me in that way, Mr. Chard."
 
"I have the right of a -in-office," retorted the inspector. "I wish to learn all about this woman. You can supply the information I require, though at present you are hardly fit to do so. Drink the brandy, I say, and pull yourself together."
 
"I am quite able to answer your questions without the aid of alcohol, thank you," replied Johnson, in so a tone that the officer did not press him further. "What is it you seek to know?"
 
Chard his shoulders, drank off the brandy himself, and, slipping the flask into his pocket, commenced a brisk examination.
 
"Who is--or, rather, who was, this girl?" he asked, taking out his pocket-book to note down the answers to his inquiries.
 
"A Polynesian girl from the island of Koiau in the South Seas."
 
"And how did she happen to be in England?"
 
"She was brought here by myself, Mr. Inspector. For a year or more I was a in Koiau, and while there I gained the good-will of Buli, the high chief. He inclined his ear to our faith, and, I believe, would have become a , had not the heathen party been so strong that they might have and killed him. As it was, he asked me to take his daughter Tera to England, and have her educated in one of our schools, so that she might return and converted, to do good in her own land. I accepted the charge, and, after baptizing the girl as Bithiah, I brought her to England, and put her to a school near London. She was there for a year, and a few months ago she came here to live with my mother and myself, her return to Koiau."
 
"Oh, she was about to return, you say?"
 
"Yes, her father, being old and , wished her to come back, that he might claim her as his successor. He sent home another missionary, named Korah Brand, to escort her back. It was only shortly before her death that I told Brand he could take her away."
 
"You say you loved her!"
 
Johnson flushed, and looked troubled. "The escaped me in my sorrow," he said, in a low voice. "I must ask you to respect the privacy of a statement made under such circumstances."
 
"Nevertheless, I fear you must speak of it," said Chard. "If I am to trace the murderer of this poor creature, I must know all about her."
 
"Well, I don't care who knows," cried the minister, recklessly. "I have nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, Mr. Inspector, I loved her, and I asked her to marry me. She refused, declaring she was in love with a man named Jack Finland."
 
"Oh, here is a fresh element. And who is Finland, may I ask?"
 
"A sailor--a nephew of Farmer Carwell."
 
"H'm!" said Chard; "and it was in Farmer Carwell's field the body was found. Strange!"
 
"I don't think Finland killed her," expostulated Johnson, with some eagerness. "He is not a godly man, and it is true, I believe, that he is a trifle dissipated in his habits; but he is a good-humoured, cheery sailor, and he loved the girl dearly. Indeed, I am certain that he is innocent."
 
"All men are presumed to be innocent until they are found guilty," said the officer, dryly. "And where is Mr. Finland now?"
 
"At sea, for all I know. He left Grimleigh three weeks ago, to join his ship in London."
 
"Do you happen to know the ship's name?"
 
"No," replied Johnson, coldly; "I was not sufficiently interested in Finland to ask. Farmer Carwell may know."
 
"I will ask him," said Mr. Inspector, making a note in his book. "And now, Mr. Johnson, tell me when this girl ran away."
 
"On the evening of August 23rd."
 
"Why did she go?"
 
"Because I informed her that for the future Brand would take charge of her, and would not let her see Finland again. I was absent when she went away, but my mother tells me that she left the house between five and six o'clock."
 
"What did you do?"
 
"I went out to look for her when I returned. I did not think she had run away; but that she had merely gone for a stroll. I therefore went out to find her, and escort her home."
 
"Did you see her?"
 
"No. I walked about for nearly two hours, but I saw nothing of her."
 
"Was there any circumstance which seemed to point to her having run away?"
 
"Well, the pearls were missing. Buli gave his daughter a bag of pearls worth at least three thousand pounds. She was to sell them, and with the money buy goods to take back to Koiau; but she was not to do so until immediately before her departure. For safety, I took charge of them, and they were usually locked up in a drawer of this desk."
 
"Did the girl know where they were?"
 
"Oh yes, I showed them to her frequently. On the day she left I forgot to take my keys with me, and when I returned, both Bithiah and the pearls were gone. Then it was that it crossed my mind she might have run away."
 
"With Finland?"
 
Johnson shook his head. "Finland was questioned by Mr. Brand about that," said he, "and denied having seen the girl. He left Grimleigh a week after her ."
 
"Do you think Finland is guilty?"
 
"I have already said that I do not, Mr. Chard. He loved the girl, and she was quite willing to marry him and give up her fortune, so I do not see what motive he could have had to kill her. No, sir, Finland is innocent."
 
"Had the girl any enemies?"
 
"Not that I know of."
 
"Can you who killed her?"
 
Johnson raised his head solemnly. "As the Lord God liveth, I can not," he said, and his answer had all the solemnity of an oath.
 
This ended the examination for the time being, and Mr. Inspector disappeared. It was yet too early for him to make up his mind, but he was strongly of opinion that Johnson knew more than he chose to confess.