The voice had a strange, familiar tone. She listens. And Fanfar, for it is he, repeats his demand.
"In the name of Francine, I beg you to open the door. It is for her sake."
By what miracle did this paralyzed frame struggle to her feet? She takes a step—then another.
"Make haste!" said Fanfar.
The woman obeys. She turns the key in the lock, with many efforts, but it is done. Fanfar enters, and in the pale morning light is confronted by this horrible apparition. He contemplates her with horror and pity.
"Madame," he said, "is not Francine here?"
She did not reply. She is looking at him earnestly.
"She has been carried off, by a man named Talizac."
The sick woman tried to repeat this name.
"Tell me," continued Fanfar, "the life of this girl, who cares for you, who loves you, may depend on what you tell me. Have you ever seen any man by the name of Talizac here? And a woman of great size known as La Roulante, has she never been here to propose an infamous bargain?"