Slade was present at the inquest. He was deeply interested in the proceedings, and every now and then he might have been seen to smile in a saturnine way. For his own purposes he had impressed on Brand the necessity of absolute silence concerning the discovery in Johnson's study.

"That one of them curtain-cords was used to choke the girl proves a good deal," he said, emphasizing with a stumpy finger on the palm of his hand; "but it don't quite show as Johnson killed the girl."

"But even before you found out about the cord, you were sure that he was guilty."

"And I'm sure now, Mr. Brand--that I am; but I wants certain facts to build up a complete case against him--facts as he can't deny. Now, this window-cord is one fact, but for all that, some one might have been in the room, and took it just to get Johnson into trouble. Now, my wife, Jemima, she's as sharp as sharp. She's been speaking to old Mrs. Johnson, who talks a lot, and Mrs. Johnson says as this girl and her son had a quarrel over her refusing him, afore the murder."

"That strengthens the case against Mr. Johnson."

"Hold on, sir. Mrs. Johnson says as the window-cord was missing three days afore that row took place. Now, sir, if Johnson killed the girl he wouldn't have got ready the cord and taken it away so long afore he needed it. If he is the murderer, he killed the girl in a fit of passion 'cos she was running away with the pearls as he wanted to pay his debts with. Going on this evidence, sir, some one must have stolen that cord with the idea of murder--and that some one, by reasoning aforesaid--as the lawyers say, wasn't George Johnson."

"Then you think that our pastor is innocent?" said Brand, hopefully.

"I don't say nothing, sir, because I don't see clear. Wait till I sees him at the inquest, and then we'll talk."

So at the inquest, Slade was observant of the minister's demeanour. However, he gained little from his scrutiny. Johnson had exhausted his earlier grief, and was cool and collected, and perfectly willing to repeat the story he had told Chard. He answered the questions which were put to him, but made no voluntary statement. By adopting this course, he was able to keep his secret of the lost and restored bills. Yet several times it was in his mind to tell Chard of the stealthy footsteps and the theft. It was just possible, he thought, that some one might have seen him looking at the pearls, and afterwards, ascertaining in the same way that Tera had taken them, have followed the girl to murder her for their sake. But after debating the subject in his mind, he decided to hold his peace, and the evidence he gave, while exonerating himself, could throw no light on the darkness which environed the case.

Nor had Chard procured any other evidence likely to elucidate the matter at all. He had not heard the story of Herbert Mayne's meeting with Johnson on the night of Tera's disappearance, near the field in which her body had afterwards been found. Herbert had told this only to Rachel and the policeman Slade. The first had remained silent, lest the pastor whom she admired should be accused of a crime which she was certain he had not committed: the second, after relating the incident to Brand, had agreed with him that until they found fresh evidence, it was best to hold their tongues. Therefore, no one but these three knew that Johnson had actually been near the scene of the crime, and in the minister's admission to Chard he had merely stated that he had searched two hours for the girl. Johnson repeated his former story, and the jury did the best they could with it; for no other evidence was procurable. There was, indeed, some talk of Finland and his departure; but as every one knew that he loved Tera, and could have secured both the girl and the pearls by marrying her--a course to which she was generally known as willing to consent--no one thought of taxing him with the crime. The peculiarity of the silken tri-coloured cord used passed unnoticed, strange to say. A London detective would have been struck by it immediately; but Chard and his subordinates were unaccustomed to such finnicky data, and it escaped them altogether.