"It was! A villainous and foul plot, concocted by yonder stricken wretch. Stupefied and bewildered, I let them do what they pleased with me, and I know nothing of what happened till I found a duelling sword in my hand, and saw that my adversary was armed in the same fashion. By this time the room was entirely deserted, except by my antagonist, the other man, and myself. This other man--the same who had suggested our using swords--opened a door in the wall, a door which I had never before perceived, and pushed me into a long dimly lighted corridor, which was also strange to me. The door closed behind us, and we hurried along the corridor for some distance, until we were stopped by the stranger who had taken upon himself the management of the business. He placed us opposite to each other, put the swords into our hands, and gave us the signal to begin. I felt in a moment that I was a lost man. My head spun round. In the dim light I could scarcely see my adversary's face, as the lamps were so arranged that what light there was fell full upon mine. In vain I tried to parry his thrusts. I had been twice wounded slightly on the shoulder, when the lights were suddenly extinguished, and I felt the sharp pang of a stab from a long and slender sword. "But this stab did not come from my opponent. Although I lost consciousness upon the moment of receiving the stroke, I knew that I was stabbed in the back." "Execrable traitors!" exclaimed Gerald Mortimer, and Augustus. "When I recovered my senses I found myself in a lonely boat-house on the banks of the Mississippi, four miles from New Orleans. I was lying on a mattress, and my wound had been dressed by a surgeon; but I was too feeble, from loss of blood and the pain I had endured, to utter a word, or ask one question of the man seated by my side." "You were not alone, then?" "No! William Bowen, the accomplice of Silas Craig, had repented of the horrible work as soon as it was done; and, under pretense of carrying my body to the river, had contrived to convey me to this lonely shed, which belonged to a friend of his." "Stop a bit, Mr. Treverton," interrupted William; "when Mr. Craig settled with me that we were to set that villainous Frenchman on to you, get up a duel, and rob you of the receipt for the hundred thousand dollars, it was agreed that you were to be attacked in fair fight, and that you were not to be seriously hurt. It was Mr. Silas Craig yonder who couldn't be content with this; it was he who turned out the gas in the thick of the fight, and stabbed you in the back. You dropped down like a dead man; but the lawyer there was too great a coward to make sure whether you were really dead; he dared not approach within a couple of yards of his victim. He told me to ransack your pockets, and secure the receipt; and then, assisted by the Frenchman, to carry the body to the river." "And you did so?"