Hawley nodded. “Yes, I know him; his name is Reyes—Captain Ernesto Reyes, of the engineers. But what puzzles me is why he should be wearing those goggles. He didn’t wear any glasses at all a couple of days ago.”
A little later the two men parted company, Ridder announcing that he had to go back to the ship. Much as he liked him, Hawley was not sorry to be rid of him just then. He was eager to make a call at the United States legation, and as the person he hoped to see there was not Minister Throgmorton, he preferred to go alone. When he arrived at the legation, a disappointment awaited him. The old colored servant informed him that Miss Virginia was not at home.
The visitor was surprised and chagrined to hear this, as a glimpse he had caught of a pretty face at one of the upper windows apprised him that this announcement was not to be taken literally. His face lighted up, however, at some supplementary information which the servant imparted to him. “Miss Virginia is not at home now, sir,” the old darky repeated with a broad grin, “but,” he added in a mysterious whisper, “she’s gwine out horseback ridin’ this afternoon. She done tol’ me to be sure and tell you that.”
That afternoon, Hawley hired a mount and met his fair ally at the old trysting place. The girl had dismounted and was standing in the middle of the road talking to her steed as though he were a human being, when the Camera Chap galloped up. She ran eagerly to meet him, both her hands outstretched and her eyes shining joyously.
“This is almost too good to be true,” she cried, as he jumped from his horse. “When I heard what they did to poor Doctor Bonsal this morning, I was half crazy with fear on your account. You certainly have had a narrow escape, Mr. Hawley.”
“Yes; and I understand that I owe it largely to you that I am now free,” he said, his voice trembling. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I——”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted, a rosy tinge making itself visible beneath her fair skin. “Who told you that? It is to the President of the United States that you owe your freedom.”
“The president!” the Camera Chap cried.
Virginia smiled. “Didn’t my father tell you that? Well, it’s the truth. He didn’t tell it to me, either; but he received a code message from the White House yesterday, and he was so careless as to leave it on his desk when he went out. I suppose I ought to be very much ashamed of myself, but my curiosity forced me to work out the translation with the aid of the code book. What a very important man you must be, Mr. Hawley, to have the president so concerned about you. But tell me what happened at the palace! What did that tyrant have to say to you?”
Her companion laughed. “I must say, in justice to him, that he didn’t act much like a tyrant to-day. If it hadn’t been for the things we know about him, I would almost have thought from the way he treated me that he really was the genial, benevolent old gentleman he looks to be when his face is in repose.”