It was not very clear what was to be known, and Lucia hastened to direct their attention to the new grating.  Gianbattista returned to work with the men, and the two women and Don Paolo stood looking on, occasionally shifting their position to get a better view of the work.  Gianbattista was mounted upon a ladder which leaned against one of the marble pillars at the entrance of the side chapel closed by the grating.  A heavy piece of arabesque work had just been got into its place, and was tied with cords while the young man ran a screw through the prepared holes to fasten one side of the fragment to the bar.  He was awkwardly placed, but he had sent the men to uncover and clean the last pieces, at a little distance from where he was at work.  The three visitors observed him with interest, probably remarking to themselves that it must need good nerves to maintain one’s self in such a position.  Don Paolo, especially, was more nervous than the rest, owing, perhaps, to what had occurred in the morning.  All at once, as he watched Gianbattista’s twisted attitude, as the apprentice strained himself and turned so as to drive the screw effectually, the foot of the ladder seemed to move a little on the smooth marble pavement.  With a quick movement Don Paolo stepped forward, with the intention of grasping the ladder.

Hearing the sound of rapid steps, Gianbattista turned his head and a part of his body to see what had happened.  The sudden movement shifted the weight, and definitely destroyed the balance of the ladder.  With a sharp screech, like that of a bad pencil scratching on a slate, the lower ends of the uprights slipped outward from the pillar.  Gianbattista clutched at the metal bars desperately, but the long screw-driver in his hands impeded him, and he missed his hold.

Don Paolo, the sound of whose step had at first made the young man turn, and had thus probably precipitated the accident, sprang forward, threw himself under the falling ladder, and grasped it with all his might.  But it was too late.  Gianbattista was heavy, and the whole ladder with his weight upon it had gained too much impetus to be easily stopped by one man.  With a loud crash he fell with the wooden frame upon the smooth marble floor.  Rolling to one side, Gianbattista leapt to his feet, dazed but apparently unhurt.

The priest lay motionless in a distorted position under the ladder, his head bent almost beneath his body, and one arm projecting upon the pavement, seemingly twisted in its socket, the palm upwards.  The long white fingers twitched convulsively once or twice, and then were still.  It was all the affair of a moment.  Maria Luisa screamed and leaned against the pillar for support, while Lucia ran forward and knelt beside the injured man.  Gianbattista, whose life had probably been saved by Don Paolo’s quick action, was dragging away the great ladder, and the workmen came running up in confusion to see what had happened.