It was brief in the extreme. She left all she possessed to build a new ship of war, to assist in protecting the freedom of her beloved country.*
* It would be a good thing if wealthy millionaires who have no family would follow the old lady's example. Britain stands sadly in need of more ships of war.—AUTHOR.
* * * * *
Years flew by. The old dame appeared to have renewed her age, as she certainly had her sternness and aristocratic composure. She never mentioned her son now; but Dawson took good care to tell her all about the discovery of little Johnnie Greybreeks, and how strangely he had turned up at the Christmas party. He told the story so feelingly that more than once during the recital he fancied he saw a tear in the stately lady's eyes.
Half a year after this Dawson was once more summoned to Drumglen.
"I had a strange dream last night," she told him. "I thought I saw Donald my boy. He held his little son by the hand, and looked at me, oh, so pleadingly. Heigh-ho! I suppose I am old and soft and silly; but, Mr. Dawson, I am not sure I should not like to see that boy Jack you spoke about—just for once, if you can find him."
"I will do my best, madam," said Dawson.
Dawson, however, was not much of a detective, else he might have found Johnnie before that day on which Tom Morgan met him accidentally near the bridge.
And now we shall see what this accidental meeting led to as far as Johnnie was concerned.