The tone adopted by the pretty brunette exasperated Passedix; he ran his fingers through his beard and tried to sneer, as he muttered: "Ah! so that's the way it is! so we choose to adopt that tone! By Roland! it is very pretty! And it is a paltry serving maid--a lady's-maid--a mere fille de chambre, who indulges in these manners of a grand duchess, when I condescend to honor her by letting my glance rest on her back hair! Ah! my love, beware! I have never met any cruel charmers--especially among your kind--and if you do not take my arm, I am capable----" "Capable of what?" demanded a young man, dressed as a simple mechanic, who had suddenly stepped between Miretta and Passedix, at the latter of whom he gazed fixedly, while forcing him back several steps with his left arm. "What business is it of yours, clown, who presume to question me? I find you exceedingly bold! Knave! stand aside instantly, or I unsheathe----" And the Gascon chevalier, crimson with wrath, was already standing on guard, with his right hand on the hilt of Roland; while Miretta, having glanced at the young man who had come to her rescue, uttered an exclamation of surprise, while her eyes beamed with joy and delight. "I will not stand aside, unless it is mademoiselle's pleasure to accept my arm and leave this crowd which is pressing upon her," rejoined the new-comer. "You! take this little one away from under my nose--from my very beard! You shall die ten deaths first!" And Passedix instantly drew Roland from its sheath. The sight of that bare sword waving in the midst of the crowd made the women shriek and the children weep; but before he who held it could make use of it the young man's hand seized the chevalier's wrist and squeezed it with such force that the fingers opened and the sword fell to the ground. "Sandioux! I know that grip; I have felt it before somewhere!" cried Passedix. "Disarm me! Shame! that is unfair! it is treachery!" But while the Gascon shouted, and shook his benumbed arm, the _soi-disant_ mechanic took Miretta's arm and disappeared with her in the crowd. At that moment loud cries arose on all sides; the great pile had been set on fire. Thereupon the crowd swayed hither and thither, some trying to draw nearer the fire in order to see better, others to move away because they were afraid. A powerful wave carried Passedix ten or fifteen yards away from the spot where his sword had fallen. Thereupon he began to whine and lament in the midst of the crowd, these words being distinguishable: "Look out, my friends! In the name of what you hold most dear, do not step on it! If it is broken, I shall not survive; I shall bury the fragments in my heart!" But the multitude, engrossed by what it had come to see, paid no heed to the cries and groans and entreaties of the unhappy chevalier, who struggled in vain to return to the place where he had lost Roland, and who before long had no idea himself in which direction it was.