They looked blank.
"Doubtless," said the banker, "you have been taught by your priests to believe that the great church of St. Peter, in Rome, is the actual centre of the universe. Is it not so?"
They assented, not without wonder, since the fact was well known.
"Recent geographers," said Asabri, "unwilling to take any statement for granted, have, after prolonged and scientific investigation, discovered that this idea is hocus pocus. The centre of the universe is in the United States, in the city of New York, in Wall Street. The number in the street, to be precise, is fifty-nine. From fifty-nine Wall Street, the word goes out to the extremities of the world: 'Let prices be low.' Or: 'Let them be high.' And so they become, according to the word. But unless I can find five thousand lire with which to take advantage of this fact, why to-morrow——"
"To-morrow?" asked the brigand who had been first to smile.
"Two months ago," said Asabri, "I was perhaps the most envied man in Italy. To-morrow I shall be laughed at." He shrugged his powerful shoulders.
"But if five thousand lire could be found?"
It was the sullen brigand who spoke, and his companions eyed him with some misgiving.
"In that case," said Asabri, "I should rehabilitate my fortune and that of the man, or men, who came to my assistance."