At that voice--at that apparition, the bride halted; so suddenly indeed, that she had not time to put down both feet, but remained with one high in the air, while the other sustained itself on the light fantastic toe. The company naturally imagined this to be an operatic flourish, which called for approbation. Monsieur Love, who was thundering down behind her, cried, “Bravo!” and as the well-grown gentleman had to make a sweep to avoid disturbing her equilibrium, he came full against the whiskered stranger, and sent him off as a bat sends a ball. “Mon Dieu!” cried Monsieur Goupille. “Ma douce amie--she has fainted away!” And, indeed, Adele had no sooner recovered her, balance, than she resigned it once more into the arms of the startled Pole, who was happily at hand. In the meantime, the German stranger, who had saved himself from falling by coming with his full force upon the toes of Mr. Higgins, again advanced to the spot, and, rudely seizing the fair bride by the arm, exclaimed,-- “No sham if you please, madame--speak! What the devil have you done with the money?” “Really, sir,” said Monsieur Goupille, drawing tip his cravat, “this is very extraordinary conduct! What have you got to say to this lady’s money?--it is my money now, sir!” “Oho! it is, is it? We’ll soon see that. Approchez donc, Monsieur Favart, faites votre devoir.” At these words the small companion of the stranger slowly sauntered to the spot, while at the sound of his name and the tread of his step, the throng gave way to the right and left. For Monsieur Favart was one of the most renowned chiefs of the great Parisian police--a man worthy to be the contemporary of the illustrious Vidocq. “Calmez vous, messieurs; do not be alarmed, ladies,” said this gentleman, in the mildest of all human voices; and certainly no oil dropped on the waters ever produced so tranquillising an effect as that small, feeble, gentle tenor. The Pole, in especial, who was holding the fair bride with both his arms, shook all over, and seemed about to let his burden gradually slide to the floor, when Monsieur Favart, looking at him with a benevolent smile, said-- “Aha, mon brave! c’est toi. Restez donc. Restez, tenant toujours la dame!” The Pole, thus condemned, in the French idiom, “always to hold the dame,” mechanically raised the arms he had previously dejected, and the police officer, with an approving nod of the head, said,-- “Bon! ne bougez point,--c’est ca!” Monsieur Goupille, in equal surprise and indignation to see his better half thus consigned, without any care to his own marital feelings, to the arms of another, was about to snatch her from the Pole, when Monsieur Favart, touching him on the breast with his little finger, said, in the suavest manner,-- “Mon bourgeois, meddle not with what does not concern you!”