It was indeed Miretta whom Passedix had espied; Miretta, who, after running hither and thither a long while, had succeeded at last in forcing her way through the crowd, and at the very moment when she expected to see her lover had heard people saying all about her: "They have made a mistake." "It isn't Giovanni that they caught." "Oh! what a misfortune!" "Who was it they arrested, then?" "No one! Oh, yes! they arrested that tall, lank man dressed in orange; but it seems that he isn't a thief, as all those gentlemen know him, and the captain of the archers himself came up and shook hands with him." "That old idiot of a second-hand clothes dealer is the cause of it all!" "Down with the old clothes man!" "To the gallows with the old clothes man!" Miretta's heart swelled when she heard all these remarks, and, as she had run a long way, she leaned against a post and began to breathe more freely. Then it was that Passedix appeared and struck an attitude in front of her, with a courteous bow, saying: "At last, I see thee again! star of my soul, firmament of my heart, moon of my thoughts, planet----" "Tell me, monsieur le chevalier, did they really take you for Giovanni?" said Miretta, breaking in upon her adorer's compliments. "Yes, fascinating brunette! Can you understand such a thing?--I am not acquainted with the famous robber, but it is impossible that he should have this elegant figure, this noble carriage, in a word, this distinguished physique which I possess!" "Oh! surely not! he does not resemble you!" "What? Do you know him, siren?" "No, but I have heard him described so often!" "And Giovanni is not likely to have a costume like this, is he, my dear?--But we have said enough of this brigand. Pray tell me, adorable brunette, what has become of a certain Comte de Carvajal, whom you know rather intimately, I believe?" Miretta was disturbed by the question, but she made haste to reply: "I do not know what you mean, monsieur le chevalier; I know no one of that name." "Really? But all those rustics, with the wrist of steel, with whom I have met you,--and notably the one who, I know not how, caused Roland to fall from my hand,--were devilishly like the foreigner who lodged at the Hôtel du Sanglier." "What do you want with that foreigner?" "What does it matter to you, if you do not know him? But you know that is not true, naughty wench!" "Adieu, monsieur le chevalier! I can stay here no longer." "What! deprive me of your company already! I will escort you to Rue Saint-Honoré." "I no longer live there; since Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin became Marquise de Santoval, we live on Rue Sainte-Avoie." "Aha! so your lady is now Marquise de Santoval! And that is the reason why my vigils in front of the Hôtel de Mongarcin have led to nothing!" "Take my advice, monsieur le chevalier, and make no further attempt to see me." "Ah! I am rich now, Miretta; I will cover you with fine pearls!"