When Archy came to himself he was lying in a comfortable berth in a
cabin on board ship. This much he dimly realized when he waked as if
from a long and dreamless sleep. It took him a little while to
understand this. At first it seemed quite natural; he thought he was on
the old _Bon Homme Richard_; and when the faint memories of Bellingham
Castle and his grandfather and Colonel Baskerville floated into his
mind, he thought it was a half-forgotten dream. But by degrees his
clouded intelligence grew clear, he remembered everything--the fight in
the tavern, the blow that deprived him of consciousness--and, suddenly
raising himself in his berth, he began to bawl, "Halloo, there! Halloo!"
A quiet man who had been sitting just outside the cabin door came in at
this.
"I wish to be put ashore instantly," said Archy, angrily. "I was carried
off by a lot of villains in a press-gang last night, and I demand to
see the captain and to be sent ashore immediately--immediately, do you
hear?"
The quiet man grinned exasperatingly. "I reckons, sir, 'twill be a good
while afore your foot touches dry land. We are now in the Bay of Biscay,
latitude 47 degrees, longitude 3 east from Greenwich, as I hearn the
sailing-master tell the cap'n just now--and he'd be mighty willin' to
oblige you, but I hardly thinks as he'll be able to set you ashore
immediate."
"Where am I?" asked Archy, in a dazed way. "What ship is this?"
"This here ship, sir, is the _Royal George_, flag-ship of Rear-Admiral
Digby, Cap'n Fulke, and we are carryin' all the sail that dratted convoy
will let us for Gibralty, with the rest o' Sir George Rodney's
fleet--good luck to 'em."
It took several minutes for Archy to digest this. He was too staggered
by what he had heard to make any further inquiries, but his quiet friend
proved communicative enough.
"You're in the sick-bay of the _Royal George_, sir, and I'm the sick-bay
nurse. It seems as how the officers thought as they'd git a good press
at the York Assizes. We was layin' off the mouth of the Humber, waitin'
for the rest o' the convoy from Ireland, and some o' the men deserted,
though we had left Plymouth o' purpose, as soon as we got our
complement, to keep the men aboard. But they got away in spite o' our
keepin' a sharp lookout, and the officers, as I say, went to look after
some others to fill their places. You took a hand in a scrimmage, sir,
in a tavern, and the officers wanted to nab you just to git even with
you; but that blow on the head was unexpected sharp. Just as you dropped
they heard the constables coming. York ain't no seaport town, and the
constables don't know enough to let a press-gang alone while it is
mindin' its own business; so our men had to cut and run, and they
brought you off with 'em, sir, thinkin' you'd peach on 'em if they left
you behind. But they meant, as soon as daylight come, to leave you at
some village on the road and let you make your way back to York, for
they see you was a gentleman, sir. When daylight come, though, you was
still layin' like a log, and they was right at the place where the boat
was to meet 'em; and when they got down to the mouth o' the Humber there
lay the _Royal George_ with the bluepeter flying, so they just had to
hustle you on board and turn you over to the surgeon, or else leave you
to die on the shore. So they brought you off, and that's six days ago,
and this is the first time, sir, you have opened your peepers since,
and I must go and tell the surgeon."
Archy lay there alone for a few moments, feeling strangely weak. The
reaction of his first awakening was upon him. Presently, a tall,
raw-boned, red-headed surgeon entered, and introduced himself in a
manner not unkind.
"I am Dr. MacBean--at your service, sir. Glad to see you so much better.
You have had a close shave in more ways than one"--Archy put his hand to
his head to find that every hair had been shaved off, and his head was
as bare as a peeled onion--"but we have pulled you through. I suppose
you remember the circumstances of your finding yourself with our men."
"I remember the fight with the press-gang, but I got a blow that stunned
me, and don't recollect anything more."
"We saw that you were a gentleman, sir, as soon as you were brought
aboard, and we regretted the anxiety your family and friends must feel
on your account. No doubt Admiral Digby will take the first opportunity
of acquainting them with your situation, and if we meet a ship homeward
bound, you will be transferred."
"But England is not my home," explained Archy, in a troubled voice. "I
am an American midshipman on parole. I was merely visiting my
grandfather, Lord Bellingham, when I went to York--and--my name is
Archibald Baskerville, and--" Archy stopped through weakness.
"There, there; you have talked enough," said Dr. MacBean, thinking his
patient was off again into vagaries.
But when he went to report to the captain, who happened to be on deck
conversing with the Admiral, he had reason to know that Archy was
entirely sane in the account he had given of himself. Admiral Digby had
heard of the young rebel, grandson of Lord Bellingham, and brought home
by Admiral Kempenfelt in the _Thunderer_. He knew that Lord Bellingham's
seat was in Yorkshire, and that, as Lord-lieutenant of the East Riding,
he would be present at the York Assizes, and he had no doubt that Archy
was just what he represented himself to be.
"I'll go below and see the youngster myself," said the Admiral, and off
he marched. As he entered the little cabin Archy opened his eyes
languidly, but the very sight of Admiral Digby was interesting and
inspiring. A perfect type of the British sailor, his kind though firm
glance and his cheery manner were like a breath of the strong salt air.
"Well, Mr. Baskerville, you have had ill-luck," began the Admiral,
cordially; "but never fear, sir; you will be sent home by the first
chance, and meanwhile we will have the pleasure of your company. I
understand you were with my old friend Kempenfelt?"
"Yes, sir," replied Archy, now feeling quite bright and strong, and
every inch Archy Baskerville, "the Admiral was very kind to me. He knew
my grandfather, and he lent me some money--oh, Jupiter!" exclaimed
Archy, suddenly, "how will I ever return that money!"
Admiral Digby roared out laughing at this. "No doubt Lord Bellingham
will see to that; but when we lend money to midshipmen in our service we
feel that it is casting our bread upon the waters."
"I dare say it is the same with us, sir," replied Archy. "But there is
nobody to lend us any on this side of the water. Even Commodore Jones
has often wanted money for a dinner, and that, too, in France, where
they profess to be our allies."
"Mr. Baskerville," said the Admiral, seating himself on the one stool
in the cabin, "I should like, when you are able, to hear the story of
that remarkable man. I do not share the prejudices of my countrymen
towards him."
"Then you can understand, sir," replied Archy, "the devotion that his
own officers feel for him."
"Perfectly. Now tell me if anything has been done towards your exchange,
for you are indebted to Jones for a system of exchange."
"Nothing has been done, sir. I was reported to the Admiralty when I was
captured, and when I landed at Portsmouth from the _Thunderer_ I went up
to London and reported myself. Then I went to my grandfather's,
Bellingham Castle, and expected to hear pretty soon from the Admiralty.
I know that exchanges have been made, but my name has not been among
them."
Something like a smile flitted over Admiral Digby's face at this, and
Archy's sharp wits interpreted it.
"I have been thinking, sir," he continued, "that my grandfather, instead
of helping forward my exchange so I can return to France, is rather
preventing it."
"I understand that you are Lord Bellingham's heir," responded the
Admiral.
"No, sir. Heir only to the title I can't use. The entail is cut."
"Your grandfather, no doubt, is anxious for you to live in England with
him. In that case you would have a splendid future before you."
"If you had tried living with Lord Bellingham--" began Archy; then
stopped. His grandfather had certainly been very kind to him, and the
shovel and tongs and boot-jacks and other impedimenta which Lord
Bellingham so freely distributed in his rages had never flown in Archy's
direction. Admiral Digby laughed outright.
"There are very few persons in England or Scotland who don't know about
Lord Bellingham," he said. "But to return to yourself. As soon as you
are able to leave your berth you will become the guest of the gunroom
mess, and then I shall hope to have the pleasure of your company
occasionally in the great cabin. As soon as we meet a homeward-bound
vessel you shall be put aboard of her, whether it be before or after we
reach Gibraltar. And now good-day to you, and may you soon be on deck
again."
After the Admiral left him Archy lay there a little time longer, when it
suddenly occurred to him that he was hungry. He bawled for the sick-bay
nurse, and when the man came ordered him to bring him some of everything
that was served in the galley. The man followed these directions, and
Archy, finding his midshipman's appetite returning in full force,
devoured everything in sight. Just as the last scrap of pudding
disappeared Dr. MacBean entered.
"It is just time, my young friend," blandly remarked the surgeon, "that
you may have a light meal of gruel served you, but nothing
solid--nothing whatever of that kind."
"Much obliged, sir," answered Archy, "but I have just finished a
glorious meal--pea-soup, salt horse, potatoes, and pudding--and I feel
about a hundred times better."
"Very well," said the surgeon, dryly, in his broad Scotch accent. "I
have always said that the only way to kill a midshipman is to cut off
his head and throw the head away; otherwise he will come to life, sure.
There is a young man on board now who was shipwrecked, had an arm and
three ribs broken, survived a Spanish doctor, and is apparently as good
as new. You two must be first cousins."
Dr. MacBean did not know he was a prophet. When the doctor left him
Archy got up quietly, and, dressing himself as fast as he could, made
for the deck. He found himself weaker than he expected, and as he
reached the top of the main-hatch he sat down awhile to rest himself. It
was a sunny afternoon, mild for the season, and the vast deck of the
great ship of the line was alive with men as she ploughed her way
majestically over the waters. As far as the eye could reach the sea was
flecked with sails. The "dratted convoy," as the sick-bay nurse called
it, consisted of a great number of store-ships containing relief for the
starving but indomitable garrison at Gibraltar, under General Sir George
Eliot. A huge fleet, under Sir George Rodney, escorted it, and the
men-of-war, compelled to carry reduced sail, so as to keep up with the
slow supply-ships, were formed in double column in the rear of the
convoy. The _Royal George_ led the left wing.
Presently, in the bright afternoon, they saw a ship approaching them on
the opposite tack. The _Royal George_ was in advance of the rest of the
squadron, and as the stranger neared them it was plain, from the
squareness of her rig, that she was a ship of war and she flew the Union
Jack. When she was nearly abeam of the _Royal George_ she kept her
topsails shaking and broke out a signal flag. The first lieutenant, who
was on the bridge, then called out to a young officer who was running
up the ladder:
"Mr. Langton, stand by for signals!"
Every eye was fixed on the advancing ship except Archy's. The name,
called out in the lieutenant's clear voice, had thrilled him, and when
he looked up there was Langton, risen from the dead, as it were,
standing in full sight and hearing of him--Langton, whom he had seen
drowned before his eyes, as he thought.
The shock and surprise of it, in his weak state, stunned Archy. His
brain reeled, he instinctively threw out his arms to keep from falling
over, and for a few minutes lay, rather than sat, on the step of the
companion-way, only half conscious of his surroundings. But joy is
exhilarating, and suddenly a great wave of life and happiness seemed to
flow upon him. Not only was he deeply attached to Langton, but the joy
that would be given to so many persons--to Langton's heartbroken mother
and sisters, to Lord Bellingham, to Colonel Baskerville--when they knew
that he was alive, was like the breath of life.
After the first few moments Archy became preternaturally alert to what
was going on. The two ships moving slowly, all the signals of the
new-comer could be easily read, and in the perfect silence, the wind
being in the right direction, every word that Langton uttered as he
spoke to the Admiral and captain could be heard.
"The garrison at Gibraltar is in a very critical state. The Spaniards
have besieged it hotly since the 12th of September. The Rock is
impregnable, but the garrison is near starvation. It has heard of the
relief on the way, but if it does not come soon it will be too late."
The stranger then signalled "Good-bye," filled her sails, and proceeded
on her way. On board the _Royal George_ the painful impression made by
the news they had just heard was obvious. The officers collected in
groups about the quarter-deck, while forward the men talked over what
they had seen, as several of them could make a shift to read the
signals.
In a few moments Langton came stepping briskly and gracefully along the
deck amidships. As he approached Archy rose to his feet and steadied
himself. When they were not more than a yard apart their eyes met.
They stood staring at each other for a full minute, and then Archy--the
gay, the debonair, the impetuous--was the first to show weakness. He
trembled like a girl, and when Langton put both hands on his shoulders
he almost had to hold Archy up.
"I thought you were drowned!" gasped Archy.
"So I thought myself, and a great many other persons too. But you--you
are as white as a sheet; and where is your hair? and how, in Heaven's
name, came you on the _Royal George_?"
"I am the fellow that was carried off by the press-gang. No one knew my
name until an hour or two ago. I have many things to tell you--things
that will surprise you. But do you tell me first how you came to life,
for I swear I saw you dead."
"I was very near it when I came to myself, thrown high and dry on the
rocks where the poor _Seahorse_ went to pieces. Some fishermen in the
tunny fisheries found me, and I was a month between life and death in a
hut near those very rocks, with a Spanish doctor who spoke no English or
French, and I spoke no Spanish. I suppose, as Dr. MacBean would say, if
it were possible to kill a midshipman by ordinary means I should not be
here now; but I escaped with my life, in spite of the doctor. It is a
long story how I got to Barcelona and from thence to England; and within
a week from the time I landed at Plymouth I was ordered to this ship. As
there is fighting before us, I could not ask for leave, even to see my
dear mother; but I wrote her, and I hope she knows by this time that I
am still alive to love her and plague her."
"Can you come below with me? I have something important to tell you."
"My watch is up, but I must go below on an errand. I am as anxious to
hear as you are to tell. I will be with you in five minutes."
And Langton ran below, leaving Archy almost doubting whether, after all,
he had really seen his friend in the flesh.