“Even in such a moment, my heart thrilled at sight of your magnificent swimming, as you forged through the waves at almost incredible speed. It did not occur to me to be afraid. Often, when I had misjudged my strength or been caught by the current, you had brought me safely to shore, swimming on your back with one arm around me, while I lay on your chest in perfect security, hearing your voice close to my ear, saying: ‘All right, my darling! We can’t sink. Breathe, and rest, and trust yourself to me.’ These slim French girls would be nothing, compared with my height and weight. “‘He will save them easily, madame,’ I said. ‘Keep calm. He will bring them in, one at a time.’ “The frantic screams of the girls became more ear-piercing. I had never heard a sound so appalling. “‘Hold on!’ you shouted. ‘Hold on! I am coming! Hold on!’ “Just before you reached them, one lost her grip of the boat; it slipped away from her clinging fingers, and, turning, she swam and struggled toward you. In an instant you had her by the arm, holding her up. “I remember wondering why she did not cease screaming. You were evidently reasoning with her and trying to draw her on to your chest. “At that moment the other girl left the boat, swam up behind you, and clasped you frantically round the throat. “You let go of the first, in order to seize those throttling fingers; but she caught at your wrists and held them. “Instantly you all went under, in a churning mass; then came to the surface—you fighting desperately—only to disappear again. “Then, for one instant I saw a brown hand appear, pointing heavenward; a girl’s white fingers locked around the wrist. “Then that also vanished, and nothing remained, but the boat, drifting bottom upwards, and the fainting French woman in my arms. “My Man, my Life, my All, lay drowning fathoms deep in the treacherous, cruel sea, while I stood helpless on the shore. * * * * * “When the precious body was recovered a week later, those gripping fingers had to be cut from throat and wrists, that it might lie alone in the graveyard on the hill. I was not allowed to see It; so my last memory of my Darling was that vision of him in his glorious strength, as he swam through the waters, with no thought of personal danger, shouting to the drowning girls: ‘Hold on! I am coming!’ “And, when the chill waters of my own despair threatened to engulf me, I seemed to hear again those ringing tones: ‘Hold on! I AM COMING!’ “Then something happened which gave them a new meaning, and awakened in my own mind a train of thought which surely saved my reason. “Your will was found, leaving all you possessed to me, and with it a letter addressed: ‘_To my wife: for her eye alone._’