"Yes, illegal; because that seizure was made for a debt which I did not owe. The sole claim which that man, Silas Craig, had upon me, was a debt of one hundred dollars. That debt was paid to him a year ago by my late partner, Philip Treverton." Silas Craig laughed aloud; but it was a hollow and affected mirth, which could scarcely have deceived the most shallow observer. "You are either a fool or a madman, Gerald Leslie," he said. "If Philip Treverton had paid the money he would have had a document; who can prove the payment of the debt?" "I can!" exclaimed William Bowen, emerging from the window of the morning room. "You refused me a paltry thousand dollars, Mr. Silas Craig; I reckon I've paid you out for your shabby conduct. Here's the receipt--the genuine document--in your own handwriting, signed with your own name, and given by you to Philip Treverton." He thrust an open paper into the attorney's hand. Silas sat gasping at the document, as if he had been rooted to the spot. "Ay, you may stare," said Bowen. "You told me to burn that paper, didn't you, upon the night of Philip Treverton's death? And you saw me burn it as you thought; but I knew the slippery customer I had to deal with, and I changed the papers. You thought you heard footsteps outside the door, and while you turned round to listen I substituted a blank sheet of foolscap for the receipt, and thrust it into the fire. You saw the blaze, and you were satisfied. I kept the genuine document, thinking it might be useful." CHAPTER XXXI. THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE AVENGER. Paul Lisimon received the parchment from the hand of Pauline Corsi, with the bewildered manner of one who scarce knows whether he is awake or dreaming; but the entrance of the Captain of the Amazon obliged the young man to recover from the temporary stupor into which he had been thrown. "Mademoiselle Corsi?" he exclaimed; "Prendergills, what does this mean?" "It means," answered the Frenchwoman, "that you should guard that paper as dearly as your life. Ask me no questions till you have seen Don Juan Moraquitos, and come with me at once to his study. Captain Prendergills, you will wait till I summon you?" "Yes, mademoiselle," answered the stalwart sailor. "You, Armand, will leave me for to-day," murmured Pauline, placing her hand in that of her lover; "I have a task to perform before I shall be worthy of your affection. In the meantime trust me, and wait." "I will," answered the artist; "I will return to my hotel and be ready to attend you at any moment you may need my presence." "Gentlemen," said the Frenchwoman, turning to the two visitors, who were looking on with considerable wonderment, at a scene they had been unable to comprehend, "I fear that we have sadly wasted your valuable time. Events have occurred which will unavoidably postpone the ceremony you were invited to witness." "Then there will be no wedding to-day, mademoiselle?"