The sight of the destruction of property for which he might have to account to his father was very painful to him.  But he could not make himself heard in the terrific din, or else Pasquale suspected the truth and pretended that he could not hear.  The porter had seen Marietta a moment in the gloom, and he knew that she had gone back to warn Zorzi.  He hoped to give them both time to hide themselves, and he now retired from the grating and began to strengthen the door, first by putting two more heavy oak bars in their places across it near the top and bottom, and further by bringing the scanty furniture from his lodge and piling it up against the panels.

Meanwhile the pounding continued at a great rate, and Giovanni thought it better to go down and interfere in person, since he could not make himself heard.  The servants were all roused by this time, and many heads were looking out of upper windows, not only from Beroviero’s house, but from the houses higher up, beyond the wooden bridge.  Two men who were walking up the footway from the opposite direction stopped at a little distance and looked on, their hoods drawn over their eyes.

Giovanni came out hurriedly and crossed the bridge.  He laid his hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder anxiously and spoke close to his ear, for the pounding was deafening.  The six men had strapped their halberds firmly together in a solid bundle with their belts, and standing three on each side they swung the whole mass of wood and iron like a battering ram, in regular time.

“Stop them, sir!  Stop them, pray!” cried Giovanni.  “I will have the door opened for you.”

Suddenly there was silence as the officer caught one of his men by the arm and bade them all wait.

“Who are you, sir?” he inquired.

“I am Giovanni Beroviero,” answered Giovanni, sure that his name would inspire respect.

The officer took off his cap politely and then replaced it.  The two men who were looking on nudged each other.

“I have a warrant to arrest a certain Zorzi,” began the lieutenant.

“I know!  It is quite right, and he is within,” answered Giovanni.  “Pasquale!” he called, standing on tiptoe under the grating.  “Pasquale!  Open the door at once for these gentlemen.”

“Gentlemen!” echoed one of the men softly, with a low laugh and digging his elbow into his companion’s side.

No one else spoke for a moment.  Then Pasquale looked through the grating.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I said open the door at once!” answered Giovanni.  “Can you not recognise the officers of the law when you see them?”

“No,” grunted Pasquale, “I have never seen much of them.  Did you say I was to open the door?”

“Yes!” cried Giovanni angrily, for he wished to show his zeal before the officer.  “Blockhead!” he added with emphasis, as Pasquale disappeared again and was presumably out of hearing.