"It would not be better," answered the old man. "You may go," he added, speaking to the men, who were glad enough to be dismissed.
Beroviero passed his son without further words and tried the door of the laboratory, but found it locked.
"What is this?" he asked angrily. "Where is Zorzi? I told him not to leave you here alone."
"You had great confidence in him," answered Giovanni, recovering himself a little. "He is in prison."
He took the key from his wallet and thrust it into the lock as he spoke.
"In prison!" cried Beroviero in a loud voice. "What do you mean?"
Giovanni held the door open for him.
"I will tell you all about Zorzi, if you will come in," he said.
Beroviero entered, stood still a moment and looked about. Everything was as Zorzi had left it, but the glass-maker's ear missed the low roar of the furnace. Instinctively he made a step towards the latter, extending his hand to see whether it was already cold, but at that moment he caught sight of the silk mantle in the chair. He glanced quickly at his son.
"Has Marietta been here with you this morning?" he asked sharply.