"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."
The minister wiped the perspiration from his forehead and drew a long breath. Chard could see that the man's nerves were shattered, and that he was suffering from severe mental excitement and physical prostration.
"How long have you been ill?" asked the inspector, suddenly.
"I am not ill; I am worried."
"Oh!"