Then, in order to make sure of the boy, the man flung him on his knees in front of the cupboard, pressing his neck closely between his own legs, in such a way that he could throttle him if he shouted. Holding his knife in his teeth and his lantern in one hand, with the other he pulled from his pocket a pointed iron, drove it into the lock, fumbled about, broke it, threw the doors wide open, tumbled everything over in a perfect fury of haste, filled his pockets, shut the cupboard again, opened it again, made another search; then he seized the boy by the windpipe, and pushed him to where the other man was still grasping the old woman, who was in a swoon, with her head thrown back and her mouth open.
That one asked in a low voice, “Did you find it?”
His companion replied, “I found it.” And he added, “See to the door.”
The one that was holding the old woman ran to the door of the garden to see if there were any one there, and called in from the little room, in a voice that resembled a hiss, “Come!”
The one who stayed behind, and who was still holding Ferruccio fast, showed his knife to the boy and the old woman, who had opened her eyes again, and said, “Not a sound, or I'll come back and cut your throat.”
And he glared at the two for a moment.
At this juncture, they heard a song sung by many voices far off on the highway.
The robber turned his head hastily towards the door, and the violence of the movement caused the cloth to fall from his face.
