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 pastor 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, shuddering; "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 wrath 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 hatred, 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 contrite 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 possessed. 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 pointed to Johnson's being more or less implicated. "I don't say that he either stole the pearls or killed the girl," mused 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."