Chard shrugged his shoulders, drank off the brandy himself, and, slipping the flask into his pocket, commenced a brisk examination.
"Who is--or, rather, who was, this girl?" he asked, taking out his pocket-book to note down the answers to his inquiries.
"A Polynesian girl from the island of Koiau in the South Seas."
"And how did she happen to be in England?"
"She was brought here by myself, Mr. Inspector. For a year or more I was a missionary in Koiau, and while there I gained the good-will of Buli, the high chief. He inclined his ear to our faith, and, I believe, would have become a professed Christian, had not the heathen party been so strong that they might have deposed and killed him. As it was, he asked me to take his daughter Tera to England, and have her educated in one of our schools, so that she might return civilized and converted, to do good in her own land. I accepted the charge, and, after baptizing the girl as Bithiah, I brought her to England, and put her to a school near London. She was there for a year, and a few months ago she came here to live with my mother and myself, pending her return to Koiau."
"Oh, she was about to return, you say?"
"Yes, her father, being old and frail, wished her to come back, that he might claim her as his successor. He sent home another missionary, named Korah Brand, to escort her back. It was only shortly before her death that I told Brand he could take her away."
"You say you loved her!"
Johnson flushed, and looked troubled. "The confession escaped me in my sorrow," he said, in a low voice. "I must ask you to respect the privacy of a statement made under such circumstances."
"Nevertheless, I fear you must speak of it," said Chard. "If I am to trace the murderer of this poor creature, I must know all about her."