Lopez bared his large, exceedingly white teeth in a deprecatory smile. “If I had known then what I know now, of course I should have taken that step, Señor Presidente--although I am not a man of violence. But I must admit that Señorita Throgmorton’s actions puzzled me--until after I had been to the fortress. I was content to watch her, to find out what it all meant. But when I learned at the fortress that the prisoner Hawley had handed her a tobacco pouch to send as a keepsake to his editor, the significance of that incident dawned upon me. I happen to know that the daughter of the British minister is an amateur photographer, so it was easy to guess why Señorita Throgmorton visited her--and why she then hurried to the Yankee warship.” The scowl on Portiforo’s face deepened. “But I can’t understand how that confounded photographer could have managed to retain possession of the snapshot!” he muttered. “I took his camera away from him that night, and it was loaded with film.” Lopez shrugged his shoulders. “Señor Hawley is an exceedingly ingenious and resourceful young man,” he remarked. “After the several exhibitions of his cleverness which he has given us, I think we can assume that he had the sagacity and foresight to change the film roll of his camera immediately after taking the picture.” The president nodded gloomily. “Yes; he might have done it that way. We ought to have been more careful in searching him afterward,” he said. “I suppose, my dear Replife,” he continued, turning with a grim smile to the secretary of war, “you now fully agree with the rest of us as to the necessity of carrying out immediately the step we were discussing. The startling news that Lopez has brought us emphasizes the danger of delaying the matter.” General Replife shook his head. “On the contrary, I think the news which Lopez has brought is a strong argument why you should spare the life of the unhappy Felix,” he urged. “What good would it do you to put him out of the way now? Such a step would only make things worse for ourselves. The photographic evidence of our guilt is now in the hands of the United States government. Whether he is found in El Torro or not, the world will know from that snapshot that he _was_ locked up there. And if he is done away with it will, of course, add to the price which we will have to pay later on.” Some of Portiforo’s advisers were impressed by this argument. They looked at their chief anxiously. The latter leaned back in his chair, a look of uncertainty on his face. It was evident from his demeanor that he appreciated the force of this plea for their victim’s life.