His name was Mearns, and the Sea-Swallow was as much a yacht as a trader, though she did bring cargoes of fruit from Italy.
Mrs. Mearns was prostrated with grief, and for many a long week never left her bed. The most Christian conclusion she could come to was that the boat had been swamped and sunk, and both the husband and child drowned.
But the Sea-Swallow was sold, and ever since poor Mrs. Mearns had lived alone with her grief, in her beautiful home down near to Torquay.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"And this lady is—my—mother, Daddy?"
"Yes, my lad; and you will see her to-morrow."
And next day he was early on shore with Oscar, and went straight to the manse.
The lady in black came slowly up the garden path about mid-day.
Something seemed to whisper to Creggan, telling him that this was indeed his mother. He ran to meet her.
She held him at arm's-length for a few seconds, while she turned white and red by turns.