Agatha’s tired mind had been trying to form some plan for their future movements.  She was uneasily aware that she would soon have to decide to do something; and, of course, she ought to get back to New York as soon as possible.  But she could not leave James Hambleton, her friend and rescuer, nor did she wish to.  She was pondering the question as the doctor spoke; then suddenly, at his words, a curtain of memory snapped up.  “My brother Hercules” and “Charlesport!”

She leaned forward, looking earnestly into the doctor’s face.  “Oh, tell me,” she cried impulsively, “is it possible that you knew Hercules Thayer?  That he was your brother?  And are we in the neighborhood of Ilion?”

“Yes—­yes—­yes,” assented the doctor, nodding to each of her questions in turn; “and I thought it was you, Agatha Shaw’s girl, from the first.  But you should have come down by land!” he dictated grimly.

“Oh, I didn’t intend to come down at all,” cried Agatha; “either by land or water!  At least not yet!”

Doctor Thayer’s jaw shot out and his eyes shone, but not with humor this time.  He looked distinctly irritated.  “But my dear Miss Agatha Redmond, where did you intend to go?”

Agatha couldn’t, by any force of will, keep her voice from stammering, as she answered:  “I wasn’t g-going anywhere!  I was k-kidnapped!”

Doctor Thayer looked sternly at her, then reached toward his medicine chest.  “My dear young woman—­” (Why is it that when a person is particularly out of temper, he is constrained to say My Dear So and So?) “My dear young woman,” said Doctor Thayer, “that’s all right, but you must take a few drops of this solution.  And let me feel your pulse.”

“Indeed, Doctor, it is all so, just as I say,” interrupted Agatha.  “I’m not feverish or out of my head, not the least bit.  I can’t tell you the whole story now; I’m too tired—­”

“Yes, that’s so, my dear child!” said the doctor, but in such an evident tone of yielding to a delirious person, that he nearly threw her into a fever with anger.  But on the whole, Agatha was too tired to mind.  He took her hand, felt of her pulse, and slowly shook his head; but what he had to say, if he had anything, was necessarily postponed.  The launch was putting into the harbor of Charlesport.

Even on the dull day of their arrival, Charlesport was a pleasant looking place, stretching up a steep hill beyond the ribbon of street that bordered its harbor.  Fish-houses and small docks stood out here and there, and one larger dock marked the farthest point of land.  A great derrick stood by one wharf, with piles of granite block near by.  Little Simon was calling directions back to Hand at the engine as they chugged past fishing smacks and mooring poles, past lobster-pot buoys and a little bug-lighthouse, threading their way into the harbor and up to the dock.  Agatha appealed to the doctor with great earnestness.