"You are wrong, my dear Anselmo; do you know that you are very disrespectful?"
Anselmo began to ponder whether it would not be better to appear more friendly to the hated comrade.
"Benedetto," he said, in a gentle voice, "why should we be enemies? I know you had reason to be angry a little while ago, but the recollection of that fearful night unmanned me, and I did not know what I was speaking about. At that time, too, I was terribly excited—"
"As I had reason to notice," interrupted Benedetto. "You were ready to kill me."
"Let us forget all that," said Anselmo, hastily. "You came here to ask a favor of me and I was a fool to refuse. We have both the same interests in keeping our past history from the world. Therefore speak. If what you desire is within the limits of reason, it shall be done."
"Bravo! you please me now, Anselmo," cried Benedetto, laughing. "At length you have become sensible. But tell me, is the little one handsome? For it is natural that your reform has been brought about by a woman; you always were an admirer and connoisseur of the fair sex."
Anselmo sprang upon Benedetto and, holding his clinched fist in his face, he said:
"Benedetto, if you care to live, don't say another word!"
"And why?" asked the wretch, with silent contempt.