"Mon Dieu! in what a tone you say that! You would make me tremble if I did not love you so dearly!"
"Your love will not resist, I will swear, the confidence I am about to make to you."
"My love is stronger than everything! You may put it to the test!"
"But if your lover were—a man banished from society—a—a criminal, in short?"
Miretta ran to Giovanni and threw herself into his arms, crying in a tone of savage joy:
"Ah! I was afraid that you were going to say that you loved someone else! I breathe again, since it is not that."
Giovanni kept his eyes fixed for some moments on the girl's, then said, shaking his head:
"Ah! it is the truth! she loves me truly!"
Thereupon he resumed his seat and continued, but more calmly:
"Listen, Miretta: there has been in Paris, for several months past, a man who spreads terror through all classes of society, but especially among the wealthiest; this man—this robber, for I am talking of a robber—attacks every night those people whose purses he knows to be well lined. Adroit, active, fearless, he intimidates his victims by his audacity, he inspires terror by his mere presence, and never, up to the present moment, has he been obliged to shed blood in order to accomplish his ends. When—which rarely happens—he falls in with a gentleman who is brave enough to defend himself, he easily disarms him, and then contents himself with taking his gold. You may imagine that the police are straining every nerve to capture this brigand; but thus far all their efforts have been fruitless. And yet his description, or rather his costume, is known everywhere; for the robber always wears the same dress when he performs his exploits. An ample olive-green cloak envelops his body, a red cap with a fringe of boar's hair covers his head and comes down to his eyes, and a long black beard conceals the lower part of his face."