“It is more; you said so,” put in Jim.

“Yes; a little more.  And if it hadn’t been for you, I shouldn’t be here, or anywhere.  I often think of that.”

“You see!” he cried.  “I had to have you, even if I followed you half-way round the globe; even if I had to jump into the sea.  Kismet—­you can’t escape me!”

But Agatha was only half smiling.  “No,” she protested, “it is not that.  I owe—­”

Jim put his fingers on her lips.  “Tut, tut!  Dear girl, you owe nothing, except to your own courage and good swimming.  But as for me, why, you know I’m yours.”

“James,” Agatha could not help preaching a bit, “just because we happen to be the actors in an adventure is no reason, no real reason, why we should be silly about each other.  We don’t have to end the story that way.”

“Oh, don’t we!  We’ll see!” shouted Jim.  “And I’m not silly, if some other people are.  I don’t see why I should be cheated out of a perfectly good climax, if you put it that way, any more than the next fellow.  Agatha, dearest—­”

But she wouldn’t listen to him.  “No, no,” she protested, slowly but earnestly.  “Look here, Mr. James Hambleton, of Lynn!  I promise to do anything, or everything, that you honestly want, after you get well.  I’ll listen to you then.  But I’m not going to let a man who is just out of a delirium make love to me.”

“But I’m not just out.  I only had a whack on the head, and that’s nothing.  I’m strong as an ox.  I’m saner than anybody.  Do listen to me, Agatha.”

“No—­no, I mustn’t.”

“But tell me, dear.  You’re free?  You’re not—­” he searched for the word that suited his mood—­“you’re not plighted?”

She smiled.  “No, I’m not plighted.”

“Ah!” he chortled, and seized both her hands, putting them to his lips.  She stood over him, looking down tenderly.

[Illustration:  She stood over him, looking down tenderly.]

“Time for your broth, Mr. Hambleton, and Mr. Straker wants to know if he can see you,” interrupted Mr. Hand.

“Can’t see him, Andy.  I’m very busy,” began Jim; then added, “By the way, who is Mr. Straker?”

“Tell him he may come in for a few minutes, Mr. Hand,” directed Agatha.  Presently the manager was being introduced in the properest manner to the invalid.  Agatha, knowing James would need protection from quizzing, stayed by.

“Now, tell me,” wheedled Mr. Straker, “the whole story just exactly as it happened to you, please.  It’s very important that I should know all the details.”

So Jimmy, aided now and then by Agatha, delivered a Straker-ized version of the wreck and the arrival at Ilion.

“But before that,” questioned the manager.  “How did you happen to be on the Jeanne D’Arc?”

For the first time James hesitated.  Not even Agatha knew that part of the story.  “I was picked up by the Jeanne D’Arc in New York harbor,” he replied slowly.