Brand did not speak, but wrung the minister's hand hard, and darted back to the chapel. Johnson took his way homeward, wondering at the rigid nature of the man who would have ruined him in all honesty. "If thy right hand offend thee cut it off"--that was the precept upon which Brand had acted; and but for Miss Arnott's evidence he would have turned Johnson adrift on the world with a dishonoured name and an endangered life. The pastor shuddered at the missionary's rigour, but he silently admitted his honesty of purpose. Then, standing under the stars, he took off his hat, and thanked God for having aided him in his trouble. There would be no question now of his leaving Bethgamul.
As he drew near his house, he saw a dark form at the gate. A few steps brought him beside it, and he then recognized Miss Arnott. She started as he came up, and looked at him in the glare of the gaslight. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Miss Arnott," said Johnson, clasping her passive hand, "I thank you from my soul for the noble way in which you defended me to-night."
"It was only right," whispered the woman, trembling at his touch; "I know you are innocent."
Recollecting Slade's discovery, and recalling his own suspicions, Johnson laid his hand on her arm. "Do you know who murdered her?"
"I? No. How should I know?" Then she caught sight of the expression on his face. She shrank back. "Surely--you don't suspect me?" she said in tones of horror.
"Miss Arnott," replied the minister, anxiously, "I will be plain with you. On the spot where Bithiah's body was found, Slade, the policeman, discovered your ear-ring!"
"Did he know it was mine?"
"No; I did not tell him. But his theory is that the woman to whom the ear-ring belongs killed the girl. Were you there on that night?"
"No; I went back to my house after my quarrel with Bithiah, and I was indoors all the evening."