Back at the post, Thomas Jefferson Brown took me into his little room, and said:
“Bobby, you’ve found that I can’t swim, and I’m going to trust you with a great secret. Love can accomplish miracles; and love did—out there. For when I let go of the canoe, Bobby, I knew that I was going straight down to my death. But a wonderful thing happened.” He brought a little map from a drawer. “Look at this map, Bobby. See all those little marks off Harrison’s Island—figures—twos and threes and fives, and nothing above sixes? That’s the depth of water for five miles out from Harrison’s Island, at low tide; and it was low tide when I jumped from the canoe. That’s all, Bobby. I waded ashore. But what would be the good of saying anything about it when it brought me love like hers?”
Yes, what would be the use? For Thomas Jefferson Brown stepped out deliberately to go to his death, and found life. He’s a hero and a man, is Thomas Jefferson Brown, even if fate did step in to make heroism a little easy for him at the time!