"I did; but I contrived to get rid of the Frenchman as soon as we reached the quay, and then, dropping my bleeding burden into a boat, I rowed down to the boat-house, where I sought a surgeon to look at my patient. Mr. Treverton knows the rest." "I do, William," answered Philip Treverton; "I know that you attended me faithfully and patiently; and then when I recovered you assisted me to get off to California, whence, after nearly a twelve-months' toil, I return so rich a man as to be able to recompense the noble conduct of my old friend, Gerald Leslie. As for yonder wretch," he added, pointing to Craig, "defeat has followed so utterly upon his career of crime that I doubt if the law can do much more to punish him. He will refund the hundred thousand dollars of which he has defrauded his victim." "I will," gasped the unhappy wretch, rising, and staggering toward the door; "I am rich; take what you will. I shall leave New Orleans forever--" He stopped suddenly, and passed his handkerchief across his lips; when he removed it, it was stained with patches of crimson. He had broken a blood-vessel! CHAPTER XXXIII. TRISTAN. A deathly and terrible gloom reigned in the Villa Moraquitos after the awful catastrophe which had closed the life of Don Juan. It was impossible to keep the entire truth from Camillia. She was told that she was fatherless, but that the report which she had heard was the result of an accident. The poor girl was made to believe that Don Juan had perished through an accident which had occurred to him while cleaning the fire-arms that ornamented his study. Pauline Corsi watched over her with the tenderness of an elder sister; but the stricken girl abandoned herself to a grief which seemed almost inconsolable. Late in the afternoon, Paul Crivelli left the house of death, and proceeded to the hotel at which Armand Tremlay was staying. He was the bearer of a letter from Pauline Corsi; and he informed the artist of the terrible event which had happened since that morning. "It will be, therefore, some months before I can hope that my cousin Camillia will assume the right to a still dearer name," said Paul, after they had talked for some time of the awful event. "I imagine so," answered Armand; "and Pauline tells me that I must be patient, as she will not consent to our marriage taking place on any day but that appointed for yours." The two young men left the hotel and walked through the more retired streets, until they left the city behind them, and emerged upon the banks of the river. Armand Tremlay and Paul Crivelli were eminently suited to each other. So much, too, had the terrible event of the day broken down the barriers of ceremony and restraint, that they seemed already like old friends.