Bartolomeo held the other end of the scarf with all his might. Aslitta must now have reached the bottom. At the moment when the major let go of the silken stuff, a key was turned in the lock and the door opened. The major had crouched on the floor; but, as he threw a glance at those who entered, he almost uttered a loud ejaculation, for before him stood—Benedetto. "I thought so," muttered Bartolomeo, in a rage; "some cursed chance has rescued him. Such a scoundrel's soul is too bad for the devil himself."
"Get up, vagabond," roughly exclaimed Benedetto.
He had looked up Aslitta to avenge Bartolomeo's escape on him, and he was in a very bad humor.
As the major did not stir, Benedetto uttered an oath and cried:
"Are you deaf, Aslitta?"
He then snatched a torch from one of the soldiers who accompanied him and looked around. As if struck by lightning he started when a well-known voice tauntingly said:
"Good-day, Andrea Cavalcanti."
"You and always you!" cried the bandit furiously. "Where is the other one?"
The major shrugged his shoulders, while the soldiers looked in every corner and Benedetto angrily gnawed his under lip.
"He has probably escaped through the well," said one of the soldiers at last.