"Arrest him," said the officer. "He is creating disorder."
The carabineers drove him into his study, and a brigadier began to ransack his papers and drawers.
He said nothing; the seizure of his manuscripts and documents was indifferent to him, for there was nothing he had ever written which would not bear the fullest light. But the insolent and arbitrary act moved him to keen anxiety, because it showed that the military men had licence to do their worst, at their will, and his anguish of apprehension was for Adone. He could only hope and pray that Adone had returned, and might be found tranquilly at work in the fields of the Terra Vergine. But his fears were great. Unless more soldiery were patrolling the district in all directions it was little likely, he thought, that these men would conduct themselves thus in Ruscino; he had no doubt that it was a concerted movement, directed by the Prefect, and the General commanding the garrisons of the province, and intended to net in one haul the malcontents of the Valdedera.
From his study there was no view upon the street; he could hear the wailing of women and screaming of children from the now closed houses: that was all.
"What is it your men do to my people?" he said sternly.
The brigadier did not reply; he went on throwing papers into a trunk.
"Where is your warrant for this search? We are not in a state of siege?" asked Don Silverio.
The man, with a significant gesture, drew his sabre up half way out of its sheath; then let it fall again with a clash. He vouchsafed no other answer.
Some women's faces pressed in at the grating of the window which looked on the little garden, scared, blanched, horrified, the white head, and sunburnt features of Gianna foremost.
"Reverendissimo!" they screamed as with one voice. "They are bringing the lads in from the moors."