“Will you tell me what—­what remuneration you were receiving as chauffeur?”

“Pardon me, but that is unnecessary, Mademoiselle.  If you will allow me to stay here, either taking care of Mr. Hambleton or in any outdoor work, for a week or as long as you may need me, I shall consider myself repaid.”

Agatha was silent while she buttered a last bit of toast.  Hand’s reticence and evident secretiveness were baffling.  She had no intention of letting the point of wages go by in the way Hand indicated, but after deliberation she dropped it for the moment, in order to take up another matter.

“I was wondering,” she began again, “how you happened to escape from the Jeanne D’Arc alone in a rowboat, and what your connection with Monsieur Chatelard was.  Will you tell me?”

A perfectly vacant look came into Hand’s face.  He might have been deaf and dumb.

At last Agatha began again.  “I am grateful, exceedingly grateful, Mr. Hand, for all that you have done for us since this catastrophe, but I can’t have any mystery about people.  That is absurd.  Did you leave the Jeanne D’Arc when the others did—­when I fell into the water?”

This time Hand consented to answer.  “No, Mademoiselle; I did not know you had fallen into the water until I brought you ashore in the morning.”

“Then how did you get off?”

“Well, it was rather queer.  The men were all tired out working at the pumps, and Monsieur Chatelard ordered a seaman named Bazinet and me to relieve two of them.  He said he would call us when the boats were lowered, as the yacht was then getting pretty shaky.  Bazinet and I worked a long time; and when finally we got on deck, thinking the Jeanne D’Arc was nearly done for, the boats had put off.  We heard some one shouting, and Bazinet got frightened and jumped for the boat.  He thought they’d wait for him.  It was too dark for me to see whether he made it or not.  I stayed on the yacht for some time, not knowing anything better to do—­” Hand allowed himself a faint smile—­“and at last, after a hunt, I found that extra boat, stowed away aft.  It was very small, and it leaked; probably that was why they did not think of using it.  But it was better than nothing.  I found some putty and a tin bucket, and got food and a lot of other things, though the boat filled so fast that I had to throw most everything out.  But I got ashore, as you know.  I didn’t even wait to see the last of the Jeanne D’Arc.”

Agatha’s eyes shone.  Hand’s story was perfectly simple and plausible.  But the other question was even more important.  She hesitated before repeating it, however, and rewarded Hand’s unusual frankness with a grateful look.

“That was a night of experience for us all,” she said, with a little sigh at the memory of it.

“But tell me—­” Agatha looked up squarely at Hand, only to encounter his deaf and dumb expression.