“His name is José Lopez, and he hails from Baracoa. That is all I can tell you about him. I have just made his acquaintance. We got to talking about his country, and that is how we came to discuss Señora Felix. I wish I could express to you how deeply I regret that I so cruelly hurt her feelings. If you are acquainted with the lady and----” “I am not,” Hawley hastily interrupted. “I merely know her by sight. She was pointed out to me the other day in Washington.” “Ah! You are from Washington?” It seemed to the Camera Chap that the other looked at him very keenly. “Not guilty,” he said, with a laugh. “New York is my stamping ground. I merely happened to be in Washington for a couple of days.” “I see. And you are now bound for----” Cipriani paused interrogatively. “I am going as far as Puerto Cabero.” Once more the other looked at him searchingly. “Might I inquire the object of your visit to Baracoa, if the question is not too personal?” Hawley smiled. “I haven’t any great objection to answering it,” he said. “I am an artist, and I am going to make some pictures. I understand that the landscapes there are very fine.” “An artist,” the other exclaimed. “That is interesting. I should very much like to see some of your work.” “Perhaps some day I will show you,” said the Camera Chap, his eyes twinkling. “And now, having answered your question, may I ask you one in return?” “I am at your service, señor.” “I would like to know why you are so bitterly prejudiced against Señora Felix. She doesn’t strike me as being the sort of woman who deserves the unkind things you said about her.” Cipriani shrugged his shoulders. “You are young, my friend. When you have lived as long as I you will not judge by appearances,” he said gravely. “But that isn’t answering my question,” Hawley insisted. “Have you any special reason for believing that the señora knows where her husband is?” “Only my knowledge of human nature,” Cipriani replied. “As I said before, it is only logical to suppose that Felix has communicated with his wife since he ran away. I understand that they were a most devoted couple. I presume that when he fled they had an understanding that she was to join him later on; probably she has found it impossible to do so because of the close watch that Portiforo has kept on her.” “How do you know that Portiforo has been keeping a close watch on her?” Hawley asked quickly. Cipriani seemed discomfited by the question. He winced, and his ruddy face changed color; but his confusion quickly passed. “Of course, I do not know it,” he said suavely. “I only assume it. Is it not logical to suppose that the government of Baracoa would keep the wife of an absconding president under close surveillance? If you had ever lived in South America you would not have asked that question. There are more spies down there than there are people to spy on.”