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 attempt to 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 could boast 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?”