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.” “Did he exact any promise from you in return for your release?” the girl inquired anxiously. “Only one. I am to leave Baracoa on to-morrow’s boat.” Virginia’s face clouded. “Of course, I expected that,” she said, with a sigh. “Still, it’s a great pity that you have to go.” Her words brought a joyous expression to Hawley’s face. “Do you really care?” he asked. “Of course I care,” she answered, her color deepening; “but not on my own account--at least,” she added, with sweet candor, “not wholly on my own account. I was thinking of poor President Felix. You are going to leave him to his fate? Of course, I don’t blame you for going,” she explained quickly, observing the hurt expression which came to his face. “It would be suicide for you to stay after what has happened, and you have already made enough sacrifices in his behalf. Still, it does seem a great pity that we can’t do anything for him--that all our efforts should have been for nothing.” “Yes, it does seem a great pity,” the Camera Chap agreed. “Tell me, Miss Throgmorton,” he said with apparent irrelevancy, “do you happen to know what is the matter with Captain Reyes’ eyes? I saw him on the Avenida Bolivar to-day, and he was wearing spectacles with thick blue lenses.” Virginia frowned, as though she resented this evident attempt on his part to change the subject. “Yes, I have seen them,” she replied coldly, “I met him this morning as he was returning from the oculist. He had been complaining of weak eyes for some time, and yesterday the specialist ordered those glasses. But what has that got to do with poor President Felix?” “Nothing, of course,” Hawley answered with a queer smile. “Nothing whatever. I was merely curious about those blue spectacles.” CHAPTER XXXV. WIRELESS WARNING.