The great steamer had been in dock over half an hour, and those pa.s.sengers who had not disembarked at Gravesend were busy with their luggage.

"Captain Clark, don't you remember me? It is Jeff Scott."

The boy had taken off his cap in a salute to his old friend. The beauty of his yellow curls was fully revealed. All the sickly paleness resulting from tropical heats had disappeared from Jeff's face, and he stood now on the deck a fair specimen of a healthy English lad.

Captain Clark instantly recognized the steady brown eyes. They recalled another pair of eyes, infinitely sadder, but oh, how like!

The golden-haired lady down-stairs had been put under his especial charge, with many injunctions to see to her welfare. But the voyage had not brought back the expected health to her cheek or light to her eyes. It was with a heart full of pity that this good man turned to the boy.

"Eh, my boy, and is it really you? I am glad to see you. Have you come to take a pa.s.sage back with me?"

But Jeff was not in the mood for any joking this morning.

"I have come to see mother," he said with infinite gravity. "I know she is one of your pa.s.sengers. Let me go to her at once. Who will tell me which is her cabin?"

The good old sailor's weather-beaten face changed a little.

"You will perhaps take her by surprise, my lad. She is ill--very weak--she cannot stand any shock. Which of her friends or relatives has come to meet her?"

"I have come--only," said Jeff, "I ran away to do it. She would expect me, of course."

Captain Clark looked at the boy, whose fair face flashed at some painful recollection.

"Well done, Jeff." The old captain's voice was husky. "Come with me at once. We will find your mother's maid or the stewardess, but you must promise to be very gentle and not to agitate her."

Jeff smiled with superior wisdom. How could his presence agitate his beloved mother?

At one of the state-room doors off the saloon Captain Clark knocked gently.

An elderly woman answered the summons at once, and held up her finger with a warning "Hush! she is asleep, poor lady! do not wake her."

Then Jeff came a little forward, trembling with eagerness, his eyes full of yearning.

"This is her boy, Mrs. Parsons, who has come alone from Scotland to meet her."

Jeff's steadfast eyes met the woman's, but he did not understand the look of pity in them. Why should anyone be sorry for him, now that the sad years of separation had come to an end?

"Come in then, laddie, very softly. She's been talking day and night of her bairn; but you must, mind, let her have her sleep out. She lay awake the long night through."

Then Jeff was cautiously admitted.

Child as he was, he staggered a little at the aspect of the white still form extended on a berth. He drew his breath quickly for a few seconds as his eyes rested on the dear familiar face--familiar, and yet how altered!

The fine oval face had indeed fallen away sadly, and the soft golden hair waved away from a brow like marble. Deep dark lines beneath the closed eyes hollowed the cheeks and seemed to speak of pain and sleepless nights. Slow tears welled up to Jeff's eyes and fell silently one by one.

He turned to the woman and spoke in a whisper:

"She has been very ill? She never told me."

"Very ill," said the elderly matron curtly. It was difficult to restrain her own tears.

Then Jeff sat down quietly and remained half-hidden by the curtain that sheltered the sleeper. Presently the noise of trampling overhead seemed to rouse the invalid. She stirred and sighed without opening her eyes.

"Mrs. Parsons, will you ask if any letters or telegrams have come for me. I shall never get ash.o.r.e without my friends. _Surely_ someone will come." Again a long-drawn sigh.

Jeff's little brown hand stole round the curtain and very softly clasped the thin white fingers.

"Mother, _I_ am here--your own little lad. Mother, oh, mother! Mother dear--"

The soft brown eyes opened with a startled look. Then suddenly the intensity of yearning mother-love met Jeff's gaze. In a moment he was on his knees beside her with his arms about her neck.

"Never, never to leave you any more, mother--to feel your hands--to kiss your cheek every night--to nurse you--to make you well--to cover you with love. Oh, how _could_ I ever bear it all! There is none like you--none--none."

The sweet pale face flushed in an ecstasy of grat.i.tude and pa.s.sionate feeling beneath the endearing epithets and the loving touches.

"My lad--my little lad," she kept repeating to herself in a low murmur, "he has come to meet me, to make me well."

In the few moments that succeeded, Jeff poured forth the tale of his adventurous flight from Loch Lossie. He made haste to soften the neglect of his mother's relatives.

"They did not know you were very ill, mother. They only thought you were a little bit ill before you left India. Aunt Annie said your maid would bring you down to Scotland quite well; but oh, I had the ache in my heart. It was a real pain, and I felt I could not wait, and I knew you would not be angry."

"Angry, my darling!" the mother said with a wondering smile, touching his hair with her weak fingers. "How pretty your hair has grown, Jeff, and you are so tall and look so well! Your father would be pleased to see you so big and strong. He will come home soon now. We are not so poor as we were. His uncle has left us some money, you know; that is why I was able to come to England."

It flashed across Jeff's mind that Mrs. Colquhoun must have been aware of his parents' improved circ.u.mstances when she invited her sister to Loch Lossie. He put away the thought from him.

"And your grandmama, tell me all about her, Jeff, and your little cousins. I have longed to hear from your own lips about everyone."

There was a lovely pink flush on the mother's face now, and her beautiful eyes were as bright as stars. Mrs. Parsons came forward, and, looking at her anxiously, said gently:

"Indeed, ma'am, but I think you had better talk no more just now. I will fetch your beef-tea, and just let the laddie sit quietly beside you, where you can see him."

Mrs. Scott smiled gently, clasping Jeff's brown fingers more closely.

"He will not leave me, Mrs. Parsons--promise--even if I go to sleep."

And so Jeff sat through the morning hours hardly speaking or stirring.

At about twelve o'clock Captain Clark came to the door and was bidden to enter. He had come to say that he had made every arrangement to get Mrs. Scott comfortably conveyed to London, and that Mrs. Parsons must get her mistress ready early in the afternoon.

"And here is a telegram, Mrs. Scott, just come for you," he said, holding out the brown envelope. Languid fingers went out to receive the missive. Was not all her world beside her?

_From Mr. Colquhoun, York Station, to Mrs. Scott, S.S. Jellalabad, Albert Docks._

"Will be at St. Pancras Hotel this evening. Send reply there. Say where you are staying. Is Geoffry with you?"

The answer was soon written, and the kind captain took it away to despatch. Preparations for Mrs. Scott's removal were carried on as quickly as possible, and Jeff made himself useful by running backwards and forwards with messages.