"Giovanni!" faltered Miretta, shaking her head sadly. "Oh! it is not he! Alas! it is not Giovanni now! I was perfectly sure that he had been murdered!" "What does she say?--what is this fable you are telling us, girl? did you see the robber pass--_yes_ or _no_?" "Yes, I did see him pass; but he is not Giovanni! He wears his clothes, he stole them, doubtless, but I tore off his false beard, and his cap fell at the same time, and I recognized him." "You recognized----" After hesitating a moment, Miretta cried at last: "Ah! why should I have any pity on the man who killed him whom I loved?--No, it is my duty to unmask the infamous villain--to bring upon him the punishment he deserves!" "Well, girl, will you answer or not? Whom did you recognize?" "I recognized, in the man you are pursuing, Comte Léodgard de Marvejols!" "The Comte de Marvejols!" exclaimed the officer, turning to his soldiers; "one of the greatest nobles at court!--Nonsense! the girl is mad!" "Yes, yes! she doesn't know what she says." "The fright has disturbed her reason!" "Ha! ha! that's a likely story! The famous Giovanni is the Comte de Marvejols!--Let us listen no longer to this girl, but continue our search. Let us follow the marks of blood; attention, you fellows! they may guide us to the place where we shall find our robber. And let us take away this cap and false beard, too." The soldiers went their way. Thereupon Miretta cast a vague, wandering look about her, then hid her face in her hands and wept bitterly, crying: "O Giovanni! Giovanni! you were very wicked, I know; but I forgave you; and I am sure that by my entreaties I could have persuaded you to abandon your career of crime! I would have brought you back to worthier sentiments. And by prayer and repentance, perhaps you might have obtained God's forgiveness!--But you have been murdered, before you had time to appease the Divine wrath!--Oh! I will avenge you; yes, I will avenge you!" Somewhat tranquillized by the tears she had shed, Miretta returned to the Hôtel de Santoval, which she reached just at daybreak. She did not try to sleep, for she knew that it would be useless; but she waited anxiously for the time when her mistress could receive her. The marchioness rang at last, and Miretta answered the bell. The instant that her eyes fell on the maid's face, Valentine, struck by her pallor and the sinister expression of her eyes, cried: "Mon Dieu! what has happened to you, Miretta? I read some terrible disaster on your features! You have seen Giovanni--he is arrested--wounded, perhaps?--Pray answer; one would say that you were afraid to speak." "In truth, madame, what I have to tell you is so horrible---- But you must know it, none the less--you must know, as he really is, the monster to whom you have given your love." "What! what do you mean? My love!--I do not understand you, Miretta; I am talking of your Giovanni.--what has Léodgard in common with your love affairs?"