The Vanishing of Tera. Fergus Hume

he would have misapplied it, as he did all other sayings of the Christ whom he professed to follow.

      In the meantime he searched for Finland, and found him on the stone jetty, smoking and jesting with some fishermen. When Brand appeared, the young sailor turned his back on him, for he had no love for a half-baked missionary. But Korah, who had the pertinacity of a fanatic, was not to be put off so easily.

      "John Finland, come with me. I have need of you."

      "Need'll have to be your master then," sneered Jack. "I've more to do than gavort round with psalm-singing critters."

      Brand seized the young man's shoulders with a grasp like a pair of pincers. "It is about Bithiah," he said, sourly.

      "I don't know any girl of that name."

      "She was Tera, when in the bonds of sin."

      "Tera!" Jack led the missionary aside, and looked at him with a frown on his handsome face. "And what may you have to say about Tera, Mister Missionary?"

      "Where is she, John Finland?"

      "How should I know? I am not her keeper."

      "So answered Cain when he destroyed his brother's body; but you, John Finland, shall not evade my inquiry about the destruction of a human soul. Tera, as you call her, is gone!--and you have taken her from the fold."

      "Tera gone!" Finland paled through his bronzed complexion. "Where has she gone?"

      "I ask that," said Brand, sternly. "Last night she left the fold at six o'clock, and has not returned. She went to you, bearing precious jewels."

      "I never saw her, I swear! Last time I met her was the evening before yesterday, when Johnson took her away. This comes of her being amongst your psalm-singing lot. You have made away with Tera for the sake of her pearls."

      Finland was desperately in earnest, for he clenched his fists, spoke hoarsely, and looked wicked. Brand was sufficiently a judge of human nature to see that this speech was made in all honesty. Whosoever knew where Tera had gone, Jack was not the man. He was as astonished at her disappearance as Brand himself.

      "I see you are ignorant of her whereabouts," he said, in a disappointed tone. "We must seek elsewhere for Bithiah."

      "Oh, I'll seek for her, I'll find her," said Jack, between his teeth; "and if any harm has come to her, I'll wring that parson's neck! I know him--he loves Tera, and I shouldn't be surprised if he has carried her off. But I'll find her--if she is above ground."

      "Above ground?" echoed Brand. "You--you don't think the girl is dead!"

       CHAPTER IV

      IN THE CORNFIELD

      The little town of Grimleigh opened full on to the Channel. Its extension had of necessity been lateral, by reason of the hills which in the rear rose so precipitously as to be hopelessly inaccessible to the builder. But at either extremity the gradient became easier, and here row upon row of houses sloped down towards a lower plane built up of silt. This, too, was well covered, though here again Nature had intervened and the builder had perforce to stay his hand, threatened by the water. A narrow stone jetty ran out abruptly into the harbour, which, sheltered as it was by the high land around, afforded secure haven for those fishers of the deep upon whom in a large degree Grimleigh depended for its prosperity.

      As you drew from the sea, the precipitous nature of the land ceased, and far into the hazy distance the undulating down now waved with the ripening corn. The comfortable-looking homesteads scattered here and there seemed almost buried in the golden billows. The distinction, too, between the land and sea folk was sharply marked. The one rarely mingled with the other. When Grimleigh folk left Grimleigh it was mostly for the sea, while Poldew--the market-town some ten miles further inland--was the invariable goal of farmer and farm labourer.

      Mr. Carwell owned the farm nearest to Grimleigh. It stretched directly from the ridge where the hills sloped beachwards. A broad highway running through the corn-lands lifted itself over the rise and dropped gradually down until it ran into the High Street bisecting the silt. Besides this main approach, the place was rich in paths, which ran round the meadows; these the Grimleigh folk put to the fullest possible use, both economic and romantic.

      A month after the disappearance of Tera two figures might have been seen climbing one of these paths. The one was Herbert Mayne, a smart yeoman squire, of handsome countenance and somewhat fickle disposition; the other Rachel Carwell, to whom for some time past the young man had attached himself. Rachel was small and rather pale; but you would not have denied her prettiness. Her brown curling hair and a neat figure and large blue eyes were attractions quite strong enough for the inflammable Herbert to lose his head over. In spite of her modest slate-coloured garb and close bonnet, Rachel knew very well that she was pretty. She in nowise resented Herbert's attentions, for he was well-looking, well-to-do, and of a good yeoman family. Her father, she knew, would approve of such a match, and as her own inclinations leaned towards it, she grudged Herbert neither her company nor her conversation. It is true that he had been wild, that there were many tales current in the district about his attentions to other girls, and that it was reported that he had once been in love with a gipsy girl; but Rachel looked upon all these things as follies of the past. Herbert was now a reformed character. He went to chapel, he attended to his farm, and he cast no glance at another woman while Rachel was by; and, although he had said no word of love to her, she quite looked on him as her future husband. She was prepared to become Mrs. Mayne whenever he should propose to raise her to that dignity. There was no romance about Rachel or her courting: all was dull and respectable, with just an element of religion thrown in, to render her position irreproachable.

      When the pair reached the brow of the hill, they cast one glance at a distant field, where Farmer Carwell was cutting and binding his corn, then turned to look back on Grimleigh and the distant ocean sparkling in the strong sunshine. Rachel had taken Herbert's arm to climb the hill, and she still leaned on it with girlish confidence in its strong support. After a time they sat down on a convenient seat, and Rachel, feeling hot, took off her close linen bonnet. Her hair was very beautiful.

      "What lovely curls you have!" said Herbert, admiringly. "It seems a shame to hide them."

      Rachel laughed and blushed, not ill pleased. When was a woman impervious to flattery?

      "It is not right that one of our congregation should give way to the vanities of this world," she said demurely. "I should put on my bonnet again, since my hair attracts your attention."

      "No, don't, Rachel. I like to see a woman make herself look as pretty as she can."

      "Vanity and vexation of spirit, Herbert."

      "Nonsense! I think our people are far too severe. Wouldn't you like to wear dresses of a pretty colour, and a gold brooch and a hat with flowers in it?"

      "What is the use of thinking of such things?" said Rachel, rather pettishly, for she had the true feminine instinct for fashion and colour. "Father would never let me dress gaily; besides, think of the scandal there would be if I appeared in Bethgamul as you describe."

      "That native girl, Tera, was gaily enough dressed, Rachel; and no one said anything in rebuke to her."

      "You mean Bithiah," corrected Rachel, primly. "Don't call her by the name her heathen father gave her; you forget, Bithiah was a king's daughter--not an English girl. Mr. Johnson said that her father wished her to be dressed like a parrot. After all, Bithiah was only a poor heathen."

      "Tera was; but Bithiah believed, and was baptized like a good Christian."

      "It did not do her much good, then," said Rachel, with jealousy, "seeing that she ran away from our good minister. They will never find her again."

      "Never!" said Herbert, confidently. "She has vanished as completely as though the earth had swallowed her up. Mr. Johnson thought that she might have gone to London. Indeed, he went there to search for her."

      "Why