Gianbattista and Lucia, seated side by side at the table, were looking into each other’s eyes, and as Marzio fixed his gaze upon them, their hands joined upon the drawing-board, and an expression of happy surprise overspread their faces.  Marzio smiled too, as he paused before completing the sentence.

“So that now, my children,” he continued, speaking very slowly, “you may as well leave each other’s hands and have done with all this nonsense.”

The lovers looked up suddenly with a puzzled air, supposing that Marzio was jesting.

“I am in earnest,” he went on.  “You see, Tista, that it will not be proper for you to sit and hold Lucia’s hand when she is called Signora Carnesecchi, so you may as well get used to it.”

For a moment there was a dead silence in the room.  Then Lucia and Gianbattista both sprang to their feet.

“What!” screamed the young girl in an agony of terror.  “Carnesecchi! what do you mean?”

“Infame! Wretch!” shouted Gianbattista, beside himself with rage as he sprang forward to grasp Marzio in his hands.

But the priest had risen too, and placed himself between the young man and Marzio to prevent any struggle.  “No violence!” he cried in a tone that dominated the angry voices and the hysterical weeping of Maria Luisa, who sat rocking herself in her chair.  Gianbattista stepped back and leaned against the wall, choking with anger.  Lucia fell back into her seat and covered her face with her hands.

“Violence?  Who wants violence?” asked Marzio in contemptuous tones.  “Do you suppose I am afraid of Tista?  Let him alone, Paolo; let us see whether he will strike me.”

The priest now turned his back on the apprentice, and confronted Marzio.  He was not pale like the rest, for he was not afraid of the chiseller, and the generous flush of a righteous indignation mounted to his calm face.

“You are mad,” he said, meeting his brother’s gaze fearlessly.

“Not in the least,” returned Marzio.  “Lucia shall marry Gasparo Carnesecchi at once, or she shall not marry any one; what am I saying?  She shall have no choice.  She must and she shall marry the man I have chosen.  What have you to do with it?  Have you come here to put yourself between me and my family?  I advise you to be careful.  The law protects me from such interference, and fellows of your cloth are not very popular at present.”

“The law,” answered the priest, controlling his wrath, “protects children against their parents.  The law which you invoke provides that a father shall not force his daughter to marry against her will, and I believe that considerable penalties are incurred in such cases.”

“What do you know of law, except how to elude it?” inquired Marzio defiantly.

Not half an hour had elapsed since he had been haranguing the admiring company of his friends, and his words came easily.  Moreover, it was a long time since he had broken through the constraint he felt in Don Paolo’s presence, and the opportunity having presented itself was not to be lost.