Deep in thought, Johnson returned to his home. He had expected this interview to end differently. Most assuredly he had not anticipated that the element of love would so have dominated it. Miss Arnott's mad passion, her quarrel with the dead girl, her payment of his debts--all these things perplexed him sorely. He knew not what to think of them. The knowledge that he was so attractive to this woman gave him no pleasure. On the contrary, rather did it cause him to shudder, to wince as at the contact of evil. "I must release myself from this snare," he murmured to himself, "and that can only be done by paying back this money. Yet where am I to get five hundred pounds? I am hampered on all sides. If I do not bribe this Shackel, he will accuse me of selling poor Tera's pearls. Already I am suspected of her murder. Every one is working against me. It is best perhaps to follow Brand's suggestion and fly. Here I may be arrested at any moment." The position was terrible. He did not see his way out of it at all. The more he thought, the more perplexed and confused he became. At length he seized his hat, and went out in the hope that fresh air and rapid motion would clear his brain. Knowing how unpopular he was, he kept away from the town and climbed the hill by the lonely path. Here in his meditation he jostled against a man coming the opposite way. The stranger was tall, slender, and as brown as Tera had been. But those keen black eyes and that hawk-like nose could belong only to a Romany. Having seen him before, Johnson had no difficulty in recognizing the man. "Pharaoh Lee!" said the minister, stopping in his surprise. "I did not know you were here!" "I'm with my people on the common yonder," replied Pharaoh, gloomily; "we came back the other day, rye--and on no very pleasant errand, either." "I am sorry to hear that, Pharaoh! What is the matter?" "A woman is the matter, as usual. D'ye remember Zara Lovell, rye?" "Yes. She was to marry you. Are you now husband and wife?" Pharaoh's brow grew black, and he muttered a gipsy oath. "We'll never be husband and wife in this life, rye, whatever we may be in the next," he said bitterly. "Zara fell in love with one of your Gentile mashers here, and has gone back to him." "Who is he?" "I wish I knew," cried Lee, fiercely; "I'd knife him!" "Hush! Hush!" rebuked Johnson, shivering at the thought of another murder. "You must not speak like that. It is dangerous." "Not always, rye. Why, some Gorgio cove killed a girl here the other day, they tell me, and he has not been caught. I dare say she deceived him." "Are you talking of Bithiah?" "I don't know what the name is; but her body was found in a cornfield." "That was the body of my ward, Bithiah," explained Johnson, sadly; "you must remember her, Pharaoh. A dark handsome girl." "Job!" cried the gipsy, smiting his thigh, "it comes to me now. She was like the gentle Romany in looks. So it's her, rye, is it? And why did he kill her?" "Who?"