Agatha made a pillow for James’s head and sat by him, looking earnestly at his flushed face; and from her heart she sighed, “Ah, dear man, it was too hard!  It was too hard!”

It was a long and weary wait for help, though help of a most efficient kind was on the way.  Agatha had been looking and listening toward the upper wood, whither Hand had disappeared.  She had even called, from time to time, on the chance that she could help to guide the assisting party back to the cove.  At last, as she listened for a reply to her call, she heard another sound that set her wondering; it was the p-p-peter-peter of a motor-boat.  She looked out over the small expanse of ocean that was visible to her, but could see nothing.  Nevertheless the boat was approaching, as its puffing proclaimed.  It grew more and more distinct, and presently a strong voice shouted “Ahoy!  Are you there?”

Three times the shout came.  Agatha made a trumpet of her hands and answered with a call on two notes, clear and strong.  “All right!” came back; and then, “Call again!  We can’t find you!” And so she called again and again, though there were tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat for very relief and joy.  When her eyes cleared, she saw the boat, and watched while it anchored well off the rocks; then two men put ashore in a rowboat.

“And where are our patients?” came a deep, steady voice from the rocks.

“This way, sir.  I think mademoiselle has moved the camp up under the trees,” was the reply, unmistakably the voice of Mr. Hand.

And there they found Agatha, kneeling by James and trying to coax him to his feet.  “Quick, they have come!  You will be cared for now, you will be well again!” she was saying.  She saw Hand approach and heard him say:  “This way, Doctor Thayer.  The gentleman is up here under the trees,” and then, for the first time in all the long ordeal, Agatha’s nerves broke and her throat filled with sobs.  As the ex-chauffeur came near, she reached a hand up to him, while with the other she covered her weeping eyes in shame.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!  I’m so glad you’ve come!” she tried to say, but it was only a whisper through her sobs.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” said Hand, touching her timidly on the shoulder.

“Tell the doctor to take care of him,” she begged in the faintest of voices; and then she crept away, thinking to hide her nerves until she should come to herself again.  But Hand followed her to the niche in the rocks where she fled, covered her with something big and warm, and before she knew it he had made her drink a cup that was comforting and good.  Then he gave her food in little bits from a basket, and sweet water out of a bottle.  Agatha’s soul revived within her, and her heart became brave again, though she still felt as if she could never move from her hard, damp resting-place among the rocks.

“You stay there, please, Mademoiselle,” adjured Mr. Hand.  “When we get the boat ready, I’ll come for you.”  Then, standing by her in his submissive way, he added a thought of his own:  “It’s very hard, Mademoiselle, to see you cry!”