There was a chorus of exclamations--a rush to the inner salon--to the door--to the street. But the stranger was nowhere in sight; and, which was still more incomprehensible, no one had seen him go! "_Mais, mon Dieu_!" exclaimed the proprietor, mopping his head and face violently with his pocket-handkerchief, "was the man a ghost, that he should vanish into the air?" "_Parbleu_! a ghost with muscles of iron," said Müller. "Talk of the strength of a madman--he has the strength of a whole lunatic asylum!" "He gave me a most confounded blow in the ribs, anyhow!" said Lepany. "And nearly broke my arm," added Eugène Droz. "And has given me a pain in my chest for a week," said I, in chorus. "If he wasn't a ghost," observed the fat student sententiously, "he must certainly be the devil." The sergents de ville grinned. "Do we, then, arrest this gentleman?" asked the taller and bigger of the two, his hand still upon my friend's shoulder. But Müller laughed and shook his head. "What!" said he, "arrest a man for resisting the devil? Nonsense, _mes amis_, you ought to canonize me. What says Monsieur le propriétaire?" Monsieur the proprietor smiled. "I am willing to let the matter drop," he replied, "on the understanding that Monsieur Müller was not really the first offender." "_Foi d'honneur_! He insulted me--I threw some coffee in his face--he flung himself upon me like a tiger, and almost choked me, as all here witnessed. And for what? Because I did him the honor to make a rough pencilling of his ugly face ... _Mille tonnerres_!--the fellow has stolen my sketch-book!" CHAPTER XXXI. FANCIES ABOUT FACES. The sketch-book was undoubtedly gone, and the stranger had undoubtedly taken it. How he took it, and how he vanished, remained a mystery. The aspect of affairs, meanwhile, was materially changed. Müller no longer stood in the position of a leniently-treated offender. He had become accuser, and plaintiff. A grave breach of the law had been committed, and he was the victim of a bold and skilful _tour de main_. The police shook their heads, twirled their moustaches, and looked wise. It was a case of premeditated assault--in short, of robbery with violence. It must be inquired into--reported, of course, at head-quarters, without loss of time. Would Monsieur be pleased to describe the stolen sketch-book? An oblong, green volume, secured by an elastic band; contains sketches in pencil and water-colors; value uncertain--Good. And the accused ... would Monsieur also be pleased to describe the person of the accused? His probable age, for instance; his height; the color of his hair, eyes, and beard? Good again. Lastly, Monsieur's own name and address, exactly and in full. _Très-bon._ It might, perhaps, be necessary for Monsieur to enter a formal deposition to-morrow morning at the Prefecture of Police, in which case due notice would be given.