"You are Jerome Morel, her father?" added the magistrate addressing the artisan.
"Yes, sir! but—"
"Enter there with your daughter." And the magistrate pointed to the chamber of Rigolette, where Rudolph already was. Reassured by his presence, the artisan and Louise, astonished and troubled, obeyed; the officer shut the door, and said to Morel, with emotion, "I know your honesty and misfortunes; it is, then, with regret I inform you that, in the name of the law, I come to arrest your daughter."
"All is discovered—I am lost!" cried Louise, throwing herself in the arms of her father.
"What do you say? what do you say?" said Morel, stupefied. "Are you mad? why lost? arrest you! why arrest you? who will arrest you?"
"I—in the name of the law!" and the officer showed his scarf.
"Oh, unfortunate! unfortunate that I am!" cried Louise, falling on her knees.
"How, in the name of the law?" said the artisan, whose mind began to wander; "why arrest my daughter in the name of the law? I answer for Louise, I—she is my daughter, my worthy daughter—is it not true, Louise? How arrest you, when our guardian angel restores you to us, to console us for the death of my little Adele? Come now! it cannot be! And besides, sir, speaking with respect, only criminals are arrested, do you understand—and Louise, my daughter, is not a criminal. Very sure, do you see, my child, this gentleman is mistaken. My name is Morel; there are more Morels than me. You are Louise—but there are more of the same name. That's it, you see, sir; there is a mistake!"
"Unfortunately, there is no mistake! Louise Morel, say farewell to your father."
"You carry away my daughter, will you?" cried the workman, furious from grief, and advancing toward the magistrate with a threatening air.