As she left the room the steward told her he would lock up her suite so that nobody would enter it during her absence, for he thought everybody would soon return. Colonel Astor accompanied his wife and her maid to lifeboat No. 4. When he attempted to enter it he was pushed back by the sailor in charge, and was told that no men were permitted in it. “But,” said Colonel Astor, “there are no more women to be taken in, and there is plenty of room.” “That makes no difference,” replied the man; “the orders are no men, so you cannot get in.” There was no use arguing, Colonel and Mrs. Astor thought, so, waving her adieu, he called out: “Good-bye, Madeleine.” TITANIC GOING DOWN TO HER DOOM. Lifeboat No. 4 did not go far before she returned to the place which soon after became the Titanic’s grave. The great “unsinkable” ship was already going fast to her doom, and fear that the suction from the sinking vessel would draw down the little lifeboat made its sailors once more turn away from the wreck and seek safety, with its handful of women and its empty seats. When the Carpathia hove in sight two sailors in lifeboat No. 4 were dead. The watch of one, which a woman looked at, had stopped at 2.15 o’clock. In the roster of the Titanic’s heroes the name of Robbins should appear. He was Colonel Astor’s old butler, and, like the Colonel’s valet, always traveled with him. He is numbered among the Titanic’s dead. Faithful unto death was Kitty, Colonel Astor’s Airedale terrier and constant companion. On land or sea, Kitty was never far from her master’s heels, and the two were familiar figures on 5th avenue. When the crash came Robbins went below and brought Kitty up on deck. There, the most faithful of friends, she stood beside her master while the sea embraced them, and she now shares his grave. Reports that a number of men--probably steerage passengers--on the Titanic who tried to rush the lifeboats and preempt the places of women and children were unceremoniously shot were confirmed by Jack Williams and William French, able seamen, survivors of the Titanic’s crew. THE FIRST STAMPEDE. “When the first of the 56-foot lifeboats were being filled,” explained Williams, “the first stampede of panic-stricken men occurred. Within a dozen feet of where I stood I saw fully ten men throw themselves into the boats already crowded with women and children. “These men were dragged back and hurled sprawling across the deck. Six of them, screaming with fear, struggled to their feet and made a second attempt to rush the boats. “About ten shots sounded in quick succession. The six cowardly men were stopped in their tracks, staggered and collapsed one after another. At least two of them vainly attempted to creep toward the boats again. The others lay quite still. This scene of bloodshed served its purpose. In that particular section of the deck there was no further attempt to violate the ‘women and children first’ rule.”