As he knelt by her side, she bade him welcome with a smile in which pleasure and confidence were blended. Indeed, the girl felt that she was quite safe from any possibility of harm while in the company of the trusted family physician. But she realized that she was very weak, and, too, her mind was by no means clear. She was unaware that she was in fact hundreds of miles distant from home and friends. She rested in a reclining position so that the gunwales of the launch were high enough to shut off a vision of the shore. Otherwise, the luxuriant swamp growth must have shown her that she was far south of New York Harbor. Ethel was familiar with the Sound Country from having traversed it in voyaging to and from Florida points. Could she now have seen, she would have recognized the giant gum trees and cypress, garnished with festoons of Spanish moss that swayed gently under the impact of the lessening breeze. "Oh, Doctor!" she queried. "Have I been ill? I feel so strange in my head, and I am so weak, and, oh, so hungry!" "Yes, Miss Marion," replied Garnet in his most suave manner, "you have been ill, but are now very much improved. If you will just lie quiet and try to sleep a little more, I will soon have you where you can have plenty of good things to eat, and your strength will return as rapidly as it left you. I'm not going to tell you more at this time. I shall wait until you've had some nourishment and are strong enough to listen to a long story." Ethel forbore further questioning. She simply smiled again and resumed her sleep. Garnet drew out the hypodermic syringe, then hesitated. He remembered how limited was his stock of morphia. After a moment more of doubt, he shook his head decidedly and restored the syringe to his pocket. It was only too apparent to him that he must husband his supply with miserly care if he would not suffer the tortures of the damned. Garnet slipped quietly back to his place by the engine. The sky was now quite clear again, and as the darkness deepened the wind continued to fall, until there was almost perfect calm. It was safe enough now for the little boat to proceed on her way. The Doctor raised the anchor and started the engine. He steered out from the shore resolutely, without any sign of wavering, heading toward the northward. But for what port he sailed was the secret of his own drug-crazed brain alone. Was it his intention to hide away for a time in some sparsely settled section of the Sound country, where he could depend upon getting supplies from the kind-hearted, simple-living coast dwellers? Or did he mean to go back over the way he had come in this frail craft? To do this, could have but one ending--the final disaster.