Benita would approve of such a death as this, and even if she loved him
not in life, would learn to love his memory. In an instant his mind was
made up, and he was speaking rapidly.

"Thompson," he said to the officer, "if I go, will you swear to take her
in and her child?"

"Certainly, Mr. 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."