A captain of archers came from the prison at that moment to inquire the cause of the commotion; when he saw Passedix, with whom he had more than once drunk and played cards at wine shops, he offered him his hand, which fully satisfied the crowd that they had made a mistake and that the prisoner was not Giovanni. The captain administered a sharp rebuke to the men who had made the arrest, calling their attention to the fact that the orange chevalier's face and figure bore no resemblance whatever to the well-known description of Giovanni. "But," cried the little dealer, in dire distress because of his error, "it is none the less true that those very noticeable garments came from my shop, and that they were stolen from my nephew, to whom I delivered them to be sold." "One moment, old Jew," said Passedix; "what is your nephew's name?" "Plumard; he is clerk to Maître Bourdinard, solicitor." "Very good; now we are on the track; and he has a friend, another little villain, even smaller than you, whose name is Bahuchet?" "That is true." "And one of them has a plaster on his head, which makes him look like a sick cur?" "It's my nephew who wears that plaster--in place of hair." "Well, you damned clothes man, if you had listened to me, I would have told you that your nephew and his friend Bahuchet came to my Hôtel du Sanglier on Place aux Chats, and, knowing that I desired a complete new outfit and that I had inherited a large property, they brought me this orange costume, for which I paid them thirty pistoles in honest crowns." "Is it possible? You gave them thirty pistoles?" "I swear it on my honor! And these gentlemen will bear witness that I am to be believed." "Yes, yes! palsambleu! Thirty pistoles--why, that is nothing to him now, for he doesn't know what to do with his doubloons." "Pardon! a thousand pardons, monsieur le chevalier! Then it must be my nephew who robbed me." "That is very probable. That little rascal, with his plaster, looked to me like a consummate knave, and I fancy that that Bahuchet is little better; but when I meet them, I will administer salutary chastisement to them. As for you, dealer in old clothes, I ought to shave your ears a trifle! You called the fine flower of chivalry a robber!" As he spoke, Passedix seized the little man by one ear and shook him roughly. The young noblemen, who were highly amused by the scene, urged the chevalier to enforce all the rights of the victor; the terrified tradesman was beginning to whine and beg for mercy, when suddenly the Gascon's face became radiant, his eyes flashed fire, and he released the little man's ear, crying: "There she is! it is she! I find her again at last!--Adieu, my noble friends! Do not follow me, I beg!"