Seymour."
"Then lay to; I am going. If any of you live, tell this lady how I
died," and he pointed to Benita, "and say I thought that she would wish
it."
"She shall be told," said the officer again, "and saved, too, if I can
do it."
"Hold Mrs. Jeffreys, then, till I am out of this. I'll leave my coat to
cover her."
A sailor obeyed, and with difficulty Robert wrenched free his hand.
Very deliberately he pressed Benita to his breast and kissed her on the
forehead, then let her gently slide on to the bottom of the boat. Next
he slipped off his overcoat and slowly rolled himself over the gunwale
into the sea.
"Now," he said, "pull Mrs. Jeffreys in."
"God bless you; you are a brave man," said Thompson. "I shall remember
you if I live a hundred years."
But no one else said anything; perhaps they were all too much ashamed,
even then.
"I have only done my duty," Seymour answered from the water. "How far is
it to the shore?"
"About three miles," shouted Thompson. "But keep on that plank, or you
will never live through the rollers. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered Robert.
Then the boat passed away from him and soon vanished in the misty face
of the deep.
Resting on the plank which had saved the life of Mrs. Jeffreys, Robert
Seymour looked about him and listened.
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