A few days later, during Carnival, the Minister of the Treasury
presented himself at Cæsar’s hotel. The famous financier was a trifle
nervous.
“Come along with me,” he said.
“Come on.”
They got into a motor, and the Minister suddenly asked:
“Could you go to Paris immediately?”
“There’s nothing to prevent. What is it to do?”
“You know that the great financier Dupont de Sarthe is studying out a
plan for restoring the value of the currency of Spain.”
“Yes.”
“Well, today the Speaker asked me several times if it was ready. It is
necessary for me to introduce it soon, as soon as possible, and along
with the plan for restoring the currency, one for the suppression of the
government tax.”
“The Speaker wishes to have these plans introduced?”
“Yes, he wishes them introduced at once.”
“That indicates that the Conservative situation is very strong,” said
Cæsar.
“Obviously.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“Go to Dupont de Sarthe and have him explain his scheme clearly, and
tell you the difficulties; if he has an outline of it, have him give it
to you; if not, have him give you his notes.”
“All right. Shall I go tonight?”
“If you can, it would be the best thing.” “There’s nothing to prevent.
Take me back to the hotel and I will pack.”
The Minister told the chauffeur to go back to Cæsar’s house.
“As soon as you arrive, let me know by wire, and write to me explaining
the scheme in the greatest possible detail.”
“Very good.”
“You will need money; I don’t know if I have any here,” said the
Minister, feeling for his pocket-book.
“I have enough for the trip,” replied Cæsar. “But, as I might need some
in Paris, it would not be a bad idea for you to open an account for me
at a bank there, or else to give me a cheque.”
The Minister vacillated, then went into the hotel writing-room and
signed a cheque on a Parisian banker in the Rue de Provence, which he
handed to Cæsar.
“See you on your return,” he said.
“Good-bye.”
Cæsar called a servant and bade him:
“Telephone to my friend Alzugaray. You know his number. Tell him to be
here inside an hour.”
“Very good, sir.”
This arranged, Cæsar went to the main door and saw that the Minister’s
motor was headed for down town. Immediately he took a carriage and went
to the Chamber. The undersecretary of the Speaker was a friend of his;
sometimes he gave him advice about playing the market.
Cæsar looked him up, and when he found him, said:
“How are we getting on?”
“All right, man,” replied the undersecretary.
“Come over here, so I can see you in the light,” said Cæsar, and taking
him by the hand, he looked into his eyes.
“It’s true,” said the undersecretary, laughing, “that the situation is
not very strong.”
“What is the danger?”
“The only danger is your friend, the famous financier. He is the one who
could play us a dirty trick.”
“Do you suspect what it could be?” “No. Not clearly. You must know
better than any one else.”
“I have just seen the Minister, and he gave me the impression of being
satisfied.”
“Then everything is all right. But I haven’t much confidence.”
Cæsar left the undersecretary, went out of the Chamber, and returned
home in the carriage. Alzugaray was waiting in the entry for him.
Cæsar called to him from the carriage:
“I am going to Paris,” he told him, “to spend a few days.”
“Good.”
“I must draw out what money I have in the Bank.”
“Let’s go there now.”
They went to the Bank, to the paying teller, and Cæsar drew out twenty
thousand pesetas of his few months’ winnings on the market.
“You are not going to play at all, this month?” asked Alzugaray.
“No, not this month.”
They left the Bank.
“I will wire you my address in Paris,” said Cæsar.
“Very good. And nothing is to be done?”
“No. That is to say, my partner and I are not going to play.
Nevertheless, I am going to leave you two thousand pesetas, and if you
think well, you can use it as you choose.”
“All right,” said Alzugaray, pleased at Cæsar’s confidence in his
talents for speculation.
“In case I need any information which had best not be public,” Cæsar
went on, “I will wire you in code. Do you know the Aran code?”
“No.”
“I will give it to you, directly, at my house. If you receive a telegram
from me from Paris, beginning with your name: ‘Ignacio, do thus or so,’
you will know it is in the code.”
“I follow you. What’s up?”
“An affair the Minister is putting through, which we will not let him
pull off without getting our share out of him. I will explain it to you,
when I come back.”
“How long do you expect to be there?”
“Two weeks at most; but perhaps I’ll come right back.”