“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.
“I think so, Signor Sindaco.”
Then the syndic laughed softly. “Give me that envelope, Signora.”
He took it and went out on the balcony.
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.”