The two men looked at the ear-ring, Slade with triumph, Johnson with dismay. There was no doubt it belonged to Miss Arnott. He had frequently seen her wearing it; and he asked himself how it came to be found on the spot where the body had lain. Miss Arnott's declaration that Tera had wrenched the ear-ring from her ear, and had carried it away, might be a mere fiction. Carried away as she was by her feelings, it was impossible to rely upon what she said. If her statement were untrue, the discovery of the ornament on the scene of the crime went to show that Miss Arnott had been on the spot, and there, perhaps during a struggle with her victim, had lost the ear-ring. In a word, this piece of evidence inculpated her somewhat seriously. Remembering her agitation and strange remarks, Johnson began to think that she had committed the murder out of jealousy. It was very feasible. The more he thought of it the more likely it seemed. But the minister determined to keep his suspicions to himself. It was not for him, on whose account she had sinned--if she had sinned--to denounce her. It was for his sake she had broken that terrible sixth commandment. Therefore he judged it right, if not righteous, to deny all knowledge of the ornament. "Have you seen this before, sir?" asked Slade, keeping a watchful eye on the face of the minister. "No," answered Johnson, with an effort to appear calm, "I never saw it before. It does not belong to Bithiah. She wore no ornaments in her ears." "Then it must be the property of some other woman--probably the woman who killed her, Mr. Johnson." "How do you know a woman killed her?" "This ear-ring points that way, anyhow. I expect the two women met and quarrelled about something or some one. Perhaps they came to blows; or perhaps, while the murderess was trying to strangle your girl, she had this torn from her ear. But it's evident that a woman's mixed up in the matter." Slade paused and looked again at the ornament. "It's a gipsy ear-ring," said he. "How do you know, Slade?" The policeman scratched his head in some embarrassment. "A flat circle of gold it is, ain't it? Well, sir, I've seen a gipsy woman wearing things of this sort." "Zara Lovell, for instance?" observed Johnson, with sudden inspiration. "Zara Lovell!" stammered Slade, retreating a step and looking anything but comfortable. "What do you know of her, Mr. Johnson?" "Only so much as I learned from Lee." "Lee! Pharaoh Lee, the gipsy? Have you seen him?" "I was speaking with him a quarter of an hour before I met you, Slade. He is looking for Zara." "Is she lost, then?"