When he reached the field, Herbert found that Inspector 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 ward, Mr. Inspector, after making a few inquiries, 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 emaciated 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 gasp. "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 shrieked the name. "Tera!" he repeated, and dropped back into his chair, "I--I knew it!" "You knew it?" echoed the inspector, pouncing upon the admission. "And how did you know it? Be careful, sir--for your own sake, be careful." But the minister was heeding him not at all. Indeed, in his then state of mind it is questionable 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."