"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."