TOGETHER ALMOST TO THE END. “We were together almost to the end,” said the steward. “I was saved. He went down with the ship. But that isn’t what I want to tell Mrs. Guggenheim.” Then the steward produced a piece of paper. He had written the message on it, he said, to be certain that it would be correct. The message was as given. “That’s all he said,” added the steward, “there wasn’t time for more.” Little by little Mr. Guggenheim got the account of his brother’s death from the steward. It was the first definite news that he had received of his brother. “Mr. Guggenheim was one of my charges,” said the steward anew. “He had his secretary with him. His name was Giglio, I believe, an Armenian, about twenty-four years old. Both died like men. “When the crash came I awakened them and told them to get dressed. A few minutes later I went into their rooms and helped them to get ready. I put a life preserver on Mr. Guggenheim. He said it hurt him in the back. There was plenty of time and I took it off, adjusted it, and then put it on him again. It was all right this time. “They wanted to get out on deck with only a few clothes on, but I pulled a heavy sweater over Mr. Guggenheim’s life belt, and then they both went out. They stayed together and I could see what they were doing. They were going from one lifeboat to another helping the women and children. “Mr. Guggenheim would shout out, ‘Women first,’ and he was of great assistance to the officers. “Things weren’t so bad at first, but when I saw Mr. Guggenheim about three quarters of an hour after the crash there was great excitement. What surprised me was that both Mr. Guggenheim and his secretary were dressed in their evening clothes. They had deliberately taken off their sweaters, and as nearly as I can remember they wore no life belts at all. “‘What’s that for?’ I asked. “‘We’ve dressed up in our best,’ replied Mr. Guggenheim, ‘and are prepared to go down like gentlemen.’ It was then he told me about the message to his wife and that is what I have come here for. “Well, shortly after the last few boats were lowered and I was ordered by the deck officer to man an oar, I waved good-bye to Mr. Guggenheim, and that was the last I saw of him and his secretary.” CHAPTER XII. MRS. ASTOR’S BRAVERY. Showed Wonderful Fortitude in the Hour of Peril--Sailors in Lifeboat Tell Of Her Heroism--Pleaded To Remain With Husband--Change Clothes to Embark--Seamen Confirm Murdock’s Suicide--One Heartless Fiend--Williams Killed as Funnel Fell. Narratives of the remarkable heroism of Colonel John Jacob Astor and the patient fortitude of Mrs. Astor under conditions that tried the self-control of the hardiest, continue to come to light. The narrative of the dreadful suspense which in a short time changed her from a radiant bride to a sorrowing widow was told by a friend of the family.