There was not an eye of all the tens of thousands of those who were present that did not see it; there was not a voice that did not break into a yell of terror and hate, till the earth shook with such a sound as might reverberate through the choked abyss of hell.
"The fiend! The fiend! The fiend!" said the shout.

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" The figure looked up, the red light shone upon its stony face that seemed one blotch of white amidst its glow.

Then it stooped down and lifted from the sand a knight's lance such as Cattrina had held.

It raised the lance and with it pointed four times, east and west and north and south, holding it finally for a while in the direction of the tribune, where sat the Doge with all his noble company, and of Venice beyond.

Lastly, with a quick and easy motion, it cast the lance toward the sky, whence it fell, remaining fixed point downward in the earth.
Then a tongue of mist that had crept up from the sea enveloped it, and when that mist cleared away the shape was gone.
Now the red haze thinned, and for the first time that morning the sun shone out in a sickly fashion.