"Beware!" he cried. "The people here are not scrupulous."
"I care not!" she answered. "I can but die!"
"But you shall die in silence!" exclaimed the planter, springing toward her, and clutching the hand which grasped the dagger.
He was too late. Her voice rang through the building in a shrill and piercing scream.
In the deadly silence of the night that sound seemed multiplied by a thousand echoes.
It vibrated in the furthest corners of the edifice.
To the planter's terrified ear it seemed as if the whole city of New Orleans must have been aroused by that one woman's cry.
Desperate and infuriated he snatched the dagger from Camillia's grasp, and placing his hand upon her mouth, was about to bury the weapon in her breast, when the door was broken open by a tremendous blow from without, and three men burst into the room.
These three men were Captain Prendergills, of the schooner Amazon, the sailor who had carried Paul's letter to Camillia, and Paul Lisimon himself.
"So," exclaimed the Captain, "we're right, are we? This is where the noise came from. What do you mean by it, you thundering landlubber? How is it that a gentleman can't take a fling at the dice without being disturbed by a woman's squeal?"