"Do you know the young lady?" cried Fanfaro.
"Certainly. Then it wasn't she whom I rescued from the river?"
"No; but for God's sake calm yourself," said Fanfaro, as he saw Anselmo make a motion to spring out of bed.
"I could have imagined that the return of that scoundrel, Benedetto, would bring me misfortune!" cried Anselmo, with flaming eyes.
"Benedetto—who speaks of Benedetto?" asked a hoarse voice.
All turned in the direction from whence the words came. At the door stood the crazy woman. When Anselmo caught sight of her, he uttered a terrible cry.
"Merciful God, where does she come from?" he groaned in terror. "Has the grave given up its dead?"
The crazy woman drew near to him, and grazed his forehead with her bony hand. She laughed aloud, and in a heart-rending voice exclaimed:
"The galley-slave—he—Toulon—the Bagnio—oh! 'tis he!"