"But oh! I did not know what I was doing. It was terror and my child,"
and she kissed the sleeping infant passionately. "Also I did not
understand at the time--I was too dazed. And--that hero--he gave his
life for me when the others wished to beat me off with oars. Yes, his
blood is upon my hands--he who died that I and my child might live."
Benita looked at her and answered, very gently:
"Perhaps he did not die after all. Do not grieve, for if he did it was a
very glorious death, and I am prouder of him than I could have been
had he lived on like the others--who wished to beat you off with oars.
Whatever is, is by God's Will, and doubtless for the best. At the least,
you and your child will be restored to your husband, though it cost me
one who would have been--my husband."
That evening Benita came upon the deck and spoke with the other ladies
who were saved, learning every detail that she could gather. But to none
of the men, except to Mr. Thompson, would she say a single word, and
soon, seeing how the matter stood, they hid themselves away from her as
they had already done from Mrs. Jeffreys.
The _Castle_ had hung about the scene of the shipwreck for thirty hours,
and rescued one other boatload of survivors, also a stoker clinging to
a piece of wreckage.
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