“Dear Ignacio, I am at Sinigaglia.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you have a moment free, read the history of the Borgias,” murmured Cæsar, turning over in bed.
The next few days Cæsar lived in constant intranquillity. Yarza telegraphed him, saying that they had done the whole operation. On the 27th, in the afternoon, Cæsar wandered toward the Calle de Alcalá; Madrid wore its normal aspect; the newspaper boys were calling no extras. More worried than he liked, Cæsar went for his walk by the Canalillo and then shut himself in his house. In the evening he went out breathless and bought the newspapers. His first impression was one of panic; there was nothing; on reaching the third page he uttered an exclamation and smiled. The Minister of Finance had just offered his resignation.
The next morning Cæsar went to the hotel in the Carrera de San Jerónimo where he had a room, and in the afternoon to the Chamber. He telephoned to Alzugaray to come and see him after the exchange closed.
Alzugaray arrived, looking pale, in company with Amparito’s father, Don Calixto, and the broker. They were all wretched. The news was horrible. Domestics had fallen two points and were still falling; in Paris the Foreign Loan had fallen more than four; Northern was not falling but tumbling to the bottom of a precipice.
“Did you know that the Minister was going to present his resignation?” asked the broker, in despair.
“I, no. How should I know it? Even the Minister himself couldn’t have known it yesterday. But I had scientific data for not believing in that rise.”
“I am ruined,” exclaimed the broker. “I have lost my savings.”
Don Calixto and Amparito’s father had also lost very large sums, which Cæsar won, and they were disconsolate.