“But their rights and patents, Signor Sindaco?”
“Their rights are worth nothing. They have to do with the Jesuits’ monastery, but there is no longer such a monastery. And tell me, Signora Antonelli, what will become of me if I yield?”
“The people will love you as a good man.”
“Signora, people will believe that I am a weak man, and every day I shall have four hundred laborers’ wives outside the town-hall, begging now for one thing, now for another. It is only to hold out for one day. To-morrow it will be forgotten.”
“To-morrow!” said Donna Elisa; “we shall never forget it.”
The syndic smiled, and Donna Elisa saw that he thought that he knew the people of Diamante much better than she.
“You think that their hearts are in it?” he said.
Then the syndic laughed softly. “Give me that envelope, Signora.”
He began to speak to the women. “I wish to tell you,” he said, “that I have just now heard that old Fra Felice is dead, and that he has left a legacy to you all. He has written down five numbers that are supposed to win in the lottery next Saturday, and he bequeaths them to you. No one has seen them yet. They are lying here in this envelope, and it is unopened.”
He was silent a moment to let the women have time to think over what he had said.
Instantly they began to cry: “The numbers, the numbers!”
“You must remember,” he said, “that it was impossible for Fra Felice to know what numbers will be drawn next Saturday. If you play on these numbers, you may all lose. And we cannot afford to be poorer than we are already here in Diamante. I ask you therefore to let me destroy the testament without any one seeing it.”
“The numbers,” cried the women, “give us the numbers!”
“If I am permitted to destroy the testament,” said the syndic, “I promise you that the blind shall have their church again.”
There was silence in the square. Donna Elisa rose from her seat in the hall of the court-house and seized the back of her chair with both hands.
“I leave it to you to choose between the church and the numbers,” said the syndic.
“God in heaven!” sighed Donna Elisa, “is he a devil to tempt poor people in such a way?”
“We have been poor before,” cried one of the women, “we can still be poor.”
“We will not choose Barabbas instead of Christ,” cried another.