"Oh no!" answered Giovanni contemptuously. "Zorzi stole that thing and had not time to hide it when they arrested him last night. I left it just where it was, that the Governor might see it."
Beroviero's face changed slowly. His fiery brown eyes began to show a dangerous light and he stroked his long beard quickly, twisting it a little each time.
"If you say that Zorzi stole Marietta's silk mantle," he said slowly, "you are either a fool or a liar."
"You are my father," answered Giovanni in some perturbation. "I cannot answer you."
Beroviero was silent for a long time. He took the mantle from the chair, examined it and assured himself that it was Marietta's own and no other. Then he carefully folded it up and laid it on the bench. His brows were contracted as if he were in great pain, and his face was pale, but his eyes were still angry.
Giovanni knew the signs of his father's wrath and dared not speak to him yet..
"Is this the evidence on which you have had my man arrested?" asked Beroviero, sitting down in the big chair and fixing his gaze on his son.
"By no means," answered Giovanni, with all the coolness he could command. "If it pleases you to hear my story from the beginning I will tell you all. If you do not hear all, you cannot possibly understand."
"I am listening," said old Beroviero, leaning back and laying his hands on the broad wooden arms of the chair.
"I shall tell you everything, exactly as it happened," said Giovanni, "and I swear that it is all true."