CHAPTER XXXV.WIRELESS WARNING.
Just as the steamshipEldorado, bound for New York, was about to leave her dock at Puerto Cabero, a touring car with a closed top dashed up to the wharf, and two women alighted and went aboard the ship. One of this pair, whose slender form was clad in black, wore a heavy veil which concealed her features, but Hawley, who was standing near the gangway when they arrived, gave a start of surprise. Despite the veil, he recognized the women as Señora Felix and her maid. The Camera Chap had not heard that the wife of the ex-president was to be among his fellow passengers. Later on, he learned that her departure from her native land was not a voluntary act. Her husband’s successor to the presidency had sent her a curt notice the day before that the government of Baracoa expected her to sail on theEldorado, and that if she saw fit to disappoint the government’s expectation in this respect, she might have to stand trial on the painful charge of being in league with the government’s enemies.
Although Hawley did not know at the time that the unfortunate woman was an exile, he could see from the way in which her slender form trembled that she was under stress of great emotion, and his heart was filled with sympathy for her, but although she passed close to where he was standing, he did not attemptto address her or even to salute her. He was keenly alive to the fact that he was an object of close scrutiny from several keen-eyed swarthy men who stood on the pier, and he realized the great necessity of treating the señora as a total stranger while they were looking on. But later, as the boat was passing out of the bay, and the Camera Chap stood against the rail of the promenade deck, gazing with mixed sensations at the grim, gray walls of El Torro fortress, he became suddenly aware that somebody was standing close beside him, and, turning, discovered Señora Felix.
The woman leaned over the rail, and her eyes were fixed yearningly on the fortress. She had raised her veil, and the sympathetic young man beside her could see the tears running down her haggard face. A sound as though she were choking came from her throat.
They were all alone. The rest of the passengers were on the other side of the deck absorbed in watching and waving salutes to the American battleship, which was an object of greater interest to them than the fortress. Under cover of this privacy, the Camera Chap thought there would be no harm in whispering a word of comfort to his unhappy neighbor. But, to his amazement, at the first sound of his voice, she wheeled on him with the fury of a tigress. “You!” she cried, her eyes blazing, her voice quavering with rage. “How dare you presume to address me after what you have done? Are you so lacking in shame, sir, that you would intrude upon the grief of a woman whose nearest and dearest you and your selfish government have murdered?”
“My dear señora!” the president’s photographic envoy protested gently.
“Yes, murdered!” the frantic woman repeated fiercely, paying no heed to his interruption. “Your intolerable interference amounts to that. Things were bad enough before you came to Baracoa, at least, there was some hope then. But now—now——” Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.
“My dear señora,” the Camera Chap repeated, taking advantage of this lull in the storm of denunciation, “I regret exceedingly that you should feel so bitter toward me, for I assure you—empty as the words may sound—that I would gladly give up my life to serve you and your husband.”
If the poor woman had been in a saner mood, she would have realized that the man who uttered these words had already proved the sincerity of them by the great risk he had run for her cause, but she merely laughed bitterly.
“Your life, señor!” she cried. “Such a sacrifice as that was not required of you. All that you were asked to do was to give up your selfish ambition—to go back to your heartless president and tell him that the life of a noble man and a woman’s broken heart were far more important in your eyes than a laurel for your own brow and a diplomatic triumph for your government. But you refused to listen to the pleadings of a devoted wife. You persisted in going ahead with your ruthless, blundering plans, not caring what might happen to your victim so long as you couldboast to the world of your wonderful snapshot achievement.”
Hawley saw that there was no use in trying to defend himself by pointing out to her that he had not made his unsuccessful attempt until he had been led to believe, from his conversation with the commander of the United States battleship, that the captive of El Torro would be protected after the snapshot had been taken, and that, moreover, it was the information which had come to him concerning the precarious condition of General Replife’s health which had caused him to decide that desperate measures were absolutely necessary. In her present mood, he realized, such argument would have been useless. Besides, his thought was not to defend himself against her bitter accusations. Big-hearted chap that he was, his sole desire was to comfort her, if that were possible.
“Tell me, señora,” he begged, after an anxious glance at the group of passengers crowded against the opposite rail, “do you know definitely that anything has happened to President Felix, or are you merely giving expression to your apprehensions?”
Again she laughed bitterly. “Is it not to be taken for granted that the consequence of your mad act of the other night would be the assassination of my husband? Do you suppose for a minute that those ruffians would let him live now that they are aware that their secret is known?”
“But you do not know of his death?” the Camera Chap persisted. “You have not actually heard that they have done what you fear?”
She shook her head. “No, I have not heard,” she said wearily. “It is scarcely to be supposed that they would proclaim their crime to the whole world. Assassins are not in the habit of advertising their deeds, señor.”
Her reply relieved him of a great fear which her previous utterances had created in his mind. “Let us hope that your anxiety is groundless,” he said soothingly. “I suppose, señora, you have heard the good news from the hospital. It was announced to-day that the condition of the minister of war is much improved. He surprised the surgeons by rallying when they thought there was no hope, and now they say that he is practically out of danger. And Replife’s life means President Felix’s life. Now that Portiforo knows that Replife is going to live, he will not dare resort to assassination.”
The woman refused to be comforted by these arguments. “Who can tell how far that tyrant will dare to go, now that you have opened his eyes to the fact that the conspiracy is known?” she asked despairingly. Then she went below, and Hawley did not see her again for the rest of the voyage, for she kept to her stateroom, even having her meals served there. But the next morning her maid handed him a note, the pathetic contents of which afforded him much satisfaction:
“Please forgive me for my unkindness of yesterday. The sight of that terrible building, so long the tomb of that poor, noble martyr, made me beside myself. In my calmer moments I realized that I mighthave done you an injustice. I believe that you are brave and generous, and that possibly what you did you may have thought was for the best. For the risks that you have run and the sacrifices that you have made I am not ungrateful; and if, as I cannot help fearing, terrible consequences to me and mine have been the result of your gallant if indiscreet attempt, you have my forgiveness, señor.”
“Please forgive me for my unkindness of yesterday. The sight of that terrible building, so long the tomb of that poor, noble martyr, made me beside myself. In my calmer moments I realized that I mighthave done you an injustice. I believe that you are brave and generous, and that possibly what you did you may have thought was for the best. For the risks that you have run and the sacrifices that you have made I am not ungrateful; and if, as I cannot help fearing, terrible consequences to me and mine have been the result of your gallant if indiscreet attempt, you have my forgiveness, señor.”
“Poor little woman,” said the Camera Chap to himself, as he finished reading this message of forgiveness. “If only——” His thought was interrupted by a hand laid on his shoulder. Turning hastily, he looked into Gale’s grinning countenance.
“A love letter?” the reporter inquired banteringly, pointing to the note.
“Not exactly,” Hawley replied with a laugh, hastily thrusting the missive into his pocket.
“Seemed to me that it was a lady’s handwriting,” theNewsman remarked.
The Camera Chap frowned. “How do you know that?” he demanded indignantly. “Did you dare look——” Then he abruptly cut himself short, resolved not to quarrel with the man to whom, he believed, he partly owed his freedom, and possibly his life.
“I couldn’t help noticing the handwriting as I accidentally glanced over your shoulder,” Gale explained.
“You didn’t read the letter, did you?” Hawley inquired. His tone was anxious, for he had not heard the reporter step up behind him, and, consequently, had no way of knowing how long he had been there.
“Certainly not,” Gale replied in an aggrieved tone. “Don’t you give me credit for having any breeding?”
Except for this slightly unpleasant incident, Gale and the Camera Chap got along well together until theEldoradostopped at San Juan, Porto Rico. There theNewsman made a queer discovery. When the vessel weighed anchor and started out for her trip to New York, Hawley was not on board. He had gone ashore, explaining that he desired to make a purchase, and had mysteriously disappeared.
When the ship’s officers and the other passengers learned of this disappearance, they were inclined to believe that the snapshot man’s failure to show up was entirely accidental. But Gale, evidently, was not of that opinion, for, with a malicious smile on his face, he hurried to the wireless room and sent off a dispatch. The message was addressed: “Portiforo, National Palace, San Cristobal,” and ran as follows:
“Hawley missing at San Juan. Have reason to believe he is on his way back to Baracoa. Look out for him.“Gale.”
“Hawley missing at San Juan. Have reason to believe he is on his way back to Baracoa. Look out for him.
“Gale.”
After sending this warning to the sly fox at Baracoa he felt more cheerful. He had not a desire in the world to help the president of the little southern republic in any way; it was entirely his own satisfaction that was to be furthered by his actions.