Our author followed the boulevard; he walked rather slowly, paying no attention to the passers-by; but suddenly he stopped short, or rather turned and flew toward a lady a few yards away, whose dress had taken fire as she walked over a burning match which one of those gentlemen who have the noble habit of smoking while they walk had thrown away, after lighting his cigar or his pipe, without even taking the trouble to step on it and extinguish it. If our friends would do so much, they would at least relieve women from the risk of such dangerous accidents; but what does a smoker care if a dress does burn, and its wearer too? He has his smoke, and the rest is all right. In very truth, we have good reason to exclaim: _O tempora! O mores!_ The lady's dress was of some thin material; the flame rose quickly to her waist, and she had not discovered that she was on fire; but when she was suddenly conscious of being seized by two strong arms, which arrested and stifled the flames at the risk of burning themselves, the lady uttered a shriek, and demanded of the man in whose embrace she was by what right he presumed to take her in his arms. Adhémar replied by pointing to her dress, one side of which was badly burned. "Mon Dieu! monsieur, I understand now," she exclaimed. "Pray forgive me! Was I really on fire?" "Yes, madame; you must have walked over a lighted match; I happened, luckily, to be within a few steps; and although I do not always see what is taking place beside me, I did see the flame just as it was beginning to make rather rapid progress; and I hastened to your assistance without stopping to ask your permission; I thought that you would not take it ill of me." "Ah! monsieur, I am so grateful to you! But you have burned yourself!" "Only a little, on the left hand. It's a mere trifle." Meanwhile, the idlers and other inquisitive folk, who always come up when the danger is over, began to collect around the lady and Adhémar. "What is it?" "What has happened?" "A lady burned----" "Throw water on her!" "It's all out. Her dress is baked a little, that's all." "She can buy another." "What about the gentleman who is so close to her?" "It was probably he who burned her--with his cigar." "Then he ought to be arrested and taken to the police station." "Why, no; he's the one who extinguished the lady; and got a pretty burn on his left wrist into the bargain." "The deuce! if he plays the fiddle, that will bother him." The hero and heroine of the adventure hastened to force their way through the crowd and to go into a pharmacy, which, luckily, was only a few steps away.