"It would seem so. Pharaoh was to have married her; but she told him that she was already married to some one in this neighbourhood. Then she ran away from the gipsy camp. Thinking she came on here to her husband--whoever he is--Lee followed, and he is now looking for her. Slade," said Johnson, gravely, "the gipsy declared that either you or Mr. Mayne must be the husband of this girl." Slade changed from red to white, and evaded the minister's eye. "I knew Zara well enough a year ago," he said, doggedly, "and we had a liking for one another; but as to marriage, that never came into my mind. I have a wife now--the only one I ever had--and if she hears this tale, Lord knows what she'll do. She's never done talking of Zara as it is." "Well, and Mr. Mayne?" "Oh, he liked Zara too; but I don't think he intended to marry her. Why, he's set on marryin' Miss Carwell." "Who else is there, that you know the girl was intimate with?" The policeman reflectively slipped the ear-ring into his pocket, and began to think. Suddenly he started and slapped his thigh. "Why didn't I think of him before?" he cried. "Finland--it's Finland, of course." "Nonsense!" said the minister, somewhat sharply, for the mention of the sailor made him wince. "Finland was in love with Bithiah and--What is the matter?" He asked this question with some astonishment, for Slade, with uncouth glee, was performing a kind of war-dance. "Lord!" he said, joyfully, "how plain it all is!" "How plain what is?" "The murder, of course. It was a woman killed Bithiah, or Tera, or whatever you call her. That's pretty conclusive. Well, the woman was Zara." "What! the gipsy girl Pharaoh is looking for?" "Oh, he's looking for her," said Slade, gleefully, "but he won't find her. She's made herself scarce because of this murder. This ear-ring is Zara's. I know now, Mr. Johnson; I saw a pair of 'em in her ears. Finland made love to Zara last year, and she was dead gone on him. I expect she heard of his goings on with your girl, and came back to make things hot. I don't know if Finland married her, but if he did, Zara hurried back here to claim him as her husband. I dare say she met Tera here in this field, and they fought over the man. Tera tore the ear-ring from Zara while she was being strangled. Then Zara hid the body in this field, and ran away. It's as clear as day," and Slade danced again; "I'll get to Poldew, sure enough!" Knowing well to whom the ear-ring belonged, the minister could not believe in Zara's guilt. But without compromising Miss Arnott, Slade's theory was not to be demolished. The best he could do was to protest against it as being too fanciful. "Why, you have more reason to suspect me," he declared. "True enough," replied Slade, "but circumstanshal evidence ain't good stuff--though I admit I'm going on it a lot in suspecting Zara." "The poor girl was strangled with my window----"