"It is indeed my long-lost son!" she cried. "Oh, heaven be praised for the dawn of this day!"
Then woman-like she relieved her feelings by weeping.
Mrs. Mearns took up her abode at the manse for two months, all the time, in fact, that Creggan spent in Skye. But she seemed quite a changed woman, and looked ten years younger at least.
She no longer wore mourning, but light-coloured, beautiful dresses. She played and sang too, in a manner that quite fascinated the minister, and she took part in all the rambles about this wild romantic island.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Well, partings came again, and with them tears and blessings. Oh, that sad word "Farewell"!
In a week after this Creggan and his mother were at Torquay. But a delightful old-fashioned wooden paddle frigate was commissioned at Plymouth. She was going on Special Service, to carry despatches here, there, and everywhere. Creggan went on purpose to see her, and though the carpenters, or wood-peckers as we used to call them, were still on board, the lad—who, by the way, had been promoted to sub-lieutenant, wore a stripe and carried a sword—liked her so much, that he made an application to be appointed to her.
His appointment came in a few days.
Then Creggan once more took the bold step of calling on the captain, and with him went Oscar.
Captain Leeward opened the door, and when the young sub-lieutenant introduced himself—