Johnson became agitated. "I cannot say that you are my promised wife," he said. "I cannot lie to them." "Why need it be a lie? Can you not marry me?" "But--but I do not love you!" "You must learn to love me. Such a passion as mine surely deserves some return. You would not be the most ungrateful of men. Have I not done my best to serve you?" "I did not ask you to." "You and I alone know that, Mr. Johnson. No one else does. If I choose to confess the truth to the congregation you will be exonerated; if I say you accepted my help wittingly and willingly, there is nothing for you to do but to amend your position by saying that I am to marry you." "Miss Arnott, you place me in a most difficult position." "Be just. I also show you the way out of it." "A way I cannot--I dare not take," said the minister, desperately. Then the woman's passion got the better of her. She rose, furious. "Yet you dare to slight me--you reject my love which has saved you from disgrace! Oh, I know well that you loved Bithiah--that wretched heathen creature! But she is dead. And I am glad that she is dead, for now there can be no hope for your mad passion. You must forget her. You must marry me. You shall marry me!" "I will not!" said Johnson, rising in his turn, and speaking every word distinctly. "You overstep the bounds of modesty, Miss Arnott. I do not love you. I never could love you. My heart is buried in the grave of Tera." The woman turned pale, and sank back into her chair. "Then is all my wickedness in vain," she moaned. "What do you mean?" asked the minister. He was struck by the peculiarity of the phrase. "You know well what I mean. I have fought that woman for you, and she has beaten me. Once she was out of the way, I thought I could win you for myself. It seems I was wrong. Yet what can you do without me? Your good name is gone; you are suspected of murdering the girl, of robbing her, and of paying your debts with the wages of your sin. Do you think the congregation will keep you as preacher? No; you will be cast out of the fold. You will be disgraced and penniless. Where will you go? What will you do--without a name, without money? I am rich; I can save you. But you refuse my help!" "God will help me," said Johnson, moving towards the door. "He knows I am innocent." "Will God help me?" cried Miss Arnott, wildly. "He knows that I am not innocent. Go, go! Leave me to reap the harvest of my folly. I have loved you too well; and this--this is my reward. Leave me, I say. Go!" She looked so furious, yet so imperious in her wrath--the wrath of a woman scorned--that the minister left the room without a word. In her present state of mind it were idle to argue with her.