Here came another lapse, which lasted about five minutes, and then Antonio murmured quite indistinctly, "I wonder if he be really asleep! He could feign anything beautifully, and his eyes seemed to give a sort of wink just now. We will soon see." Some minutes of silence then succeeded, and at length Antonio spoke aloud: "No," he said, as if coming to some fixed and firm conclusion, "no; it would be better for him himself to die. The good woman did him a bad service. These Frenchmen will hang him again whenever they catch him, and if there be any inquiry into the death of Buondoni, they will put him on the rack; besides, we may all get ourselves into trouble by conniving at his escape from justice. Better finish it at once while he is asleep, and before he half knows he has been brought to life again." He then unsheathed his dagger, which was both long and broad, tried the point upon his finger, and gazed at his companion. Still there was no sign of consciousness. The next moment, however, Antonio rose, deliberately pushed back his sleeve from his wrist, as if to prevent it from being soiled with blood, and then raised the dagger high over the slumbering man. The instant he did so, Mardocchi started up, and clasped his wrist, exclaiming, "Antonio Biondi, what would you do? kill your unhappy friend?" Antonio burst into a loud laugh, saying, "Only a new way of waking a sleeping man, Mardocchi. The truth is, I have no time to wait till your shamming is over in the regular course. We have matters of life and death to talk of; and you must cast away all trick and deceit, and act straightforwardly with me, that we may act quickly; your own life and safety depend upon it. Now tell me, what did the Lord of Vitry hang you for?" "His morning's sport, I fancy," answered the man; "but softly, good friend; you forget I hardly know as yet whether I am of this world or another. My senses are still all confused, and you, Antonio--my old playmate--should have some compassion on me." "So I have, Mardocchi," answered Antonio; "and, as these good people have brought you back to life, I wish to save you from being sent out of it again more quickly than you fancy." "Where is the danger?" asked Mardocchi, hesitating. "That is just what I want to discover," said the other; "not vaguely, not generally, but particularly, in every point. General dangers I can see plenty, but I must know all the particular ones, in order to place you in safety. Do you know that your lord, Buondoni, is dead?" "Ay, so the good woman told me," replied the other; "killed by that young cub of the Viscontis. Curses on him!" Antonio marked both the imprecation and the expression of countenance with which it was uttered; but he did not follow the scent at once. "Do you know at whose prayer you were cut down?" he asked.