Archy went below, and in a few minutes Langton bounded into the little
cabin. Archy, who was of a demonstrative nature, seized him and hugged
him hard, and Langton seemed equally as overjoyed to see him.
"Langton," were Archy's first words, "do you know who you are?"
Langton looked at him keenly instead of replying. He thought perhaps Dr.
MacBean had let his patient out of bed too soon.
"I say," said Archy, earnestly, "do you know that you are my first
cousin?"
Langton was sure then that Archy's brain was still unsettled by the clip
over the ear he had got.
"Yes, yes, I know it," he answered, soothingly; "it's all right. Don't
vex yourself about it, though."
"But, Langton, I know that you are Lord Bellingham's grandson," cried
Archy.
A deep flush overspread Langton's handsome face.
"I know it, too; but he drove my mother out of his house for marrying
my father--an honorable soldier, an honest gentleman, and a better man
than Lord Bellingham."
"I believe you."
"And as he treated my mother so ill and insulted my father, I have no
desire for the world to know that I am his grandson."
"But he did the same by my father and mother. My father was his only
son, and he went to America, and that is how I came to be an American."
"I did not know that. My mother told me she had an only brother; that he
had left England, and had given up all communication with his family. It
is true that when I heard your name--Baskerville--I remembered that it
had been my mother's name; but as you never spoke of any English
relatives, I was no prophet to discover that we were first cousins.
Why," continued Langton, saying what everybody else did, "you are the
heir!"
"No, I am not. You are much more likely to be master of Bellingham than
I. Do you suppose Lord Bellingham would ever make an American his heir?
Oh, you don't know him. But you ought to know our uncle, Colonel
Baskerville--glorious old chap. Did you never hear of him?"
"Yes, but he was in India; and you forget that I left home when I was
eleven years old, and I did not much care for family histories then.
Why, however, did you never mention to me that Lord Bellingham was your
grandfather?"
"Because my commodore, the great Paul Jones, advised me that the less I
said about it the better as long as I was in the American Navy; and he
warned me if I were captured at any time that it might go the harder
with me if it was known that I was of an English family. The day I left
the _Seahorse_, when I went into the cabin to say good-bye to Captain
Lockyer, and get his letter to Admiral Kempenfelt, he had an open
'Peerage and Baronetage' before him. He asked me one or two questions
about my father's and mother's names, and then quietly wrote, before my
face, that I was Lord Bellingham's grandson. Foolishly enough, I thought
when I got to England that my grandfather might help me to get
exchanged. But Commodore Jones was right--it went the harder with me on
that account, and I don't propose to trust myself shortly within reach
of the Admiralty. I shall take my chances at Gibraltar."
"You always were, and always will be, a fellow for adventure. Now, tell
me all that has befallen you--and, by George! how comical you look
without any hair!"
Archy plunged into his story. He told it with fire and energy. Langton
listened, deeply interested, and only interrupted the recital
occasionally by gusts of laughter when Archy told of some of the
peculiarly odd circumstances that had happened to him. Then Langton told
his story. There was nothing to laugh at in that; it was only a modest
history of his sufferings since they had parted, not the least of which
was the cruel disappointment of leaving England without seeing his
mother and sisters.
"There is not much money at home to spare," he said; "so, besides that I
could not ask for leave when ordered for active service, I thought I
could benefit my mother most by going where there was likely to be
prize-money. And that gave me heart to come cheerfully--as I had to come
anyhow. By the way, do you know we have a royal prince on board--Prince
William Henry, second son of your friend King George III., otherwise
known in the mess as Billy. He is a tolerably good sort of a chap, not
very bright, but takes what comes, along with the rest of us, like a
true-born Briton. You will see him at the mess."
"If I go to the mess. But, look you, Langton, I do not budge to the mess
unless I am invited in due form, just as you invite a French midshipman.
As Commodore Jones said of Admiral de la Motte Piquet, 'I can show a
commission as respectable as any the French Admiral can produce'; and so
can I."
"I will see to it that your high mightiness is invited in form. But let
me ask you--how is it that you Americans, who preach liberty and
equality and republican simplicity, and all that sort of thing, are
invariably haughty and punctilious to the last degree?"
"Only with benighted Europeans, my dear Langton. With each other we are
like the Spanish grandees, who, I have heard, call each other Nick and
Jack and Rob--or their Spanish equivalents--and are all ease and
familiarity among themselves. But when they meet another less great than
themselves, they are careful to give him all his names and honors and
titles."
Langton went off laughing at this, and left Archy congratulating himself
on having given a clinching reason, until he recalled Colonel
Baskerville's remark, that to have the best of it at repartee was by no
means to have the best of it in reason and common-sense. Dear old chap!
Archy meant, the very next day, to write him a long letter, telling him
the events of every moment since they parted.
Presently a note was brought in, addressed to Midshipman Baskerville,
late of the continental ship _Bon Homme Richard_. It was an invitation
to be the guest of the midshipmen's mess. Archy examined it carefully
and critically. Yes, it was in due form, although neither the writing,
the spelling, nor the grammar was above reproach. He accepted the
invitation, and signed his name and rank in a large, bold hand, and was
glad enough to do so.
Before supper was ready Archy went on deck again. Lounging on the rail
was a little midshipman who, Archy speedily discovered, was the scion of
royalty, Prince William. A more harmless, quiet, common-place reefer he
had never seen. The twilight was fast melting into night, and Archy was
watching with interest the movements of the fleet and convoy, larger
than anything of the kind he had ever seen before, when the ship's bell
clanged out suddenly for "Fire!" Archy suspected that it was merely a
fire-drill, and so evidently thought Prince William, for, rousing
himself and seeing Admiral Digby near him unconcernedly studying the
stars through his glass, the young Prince walked leisurely to his
station, and was the last midshipman to take his place at the head of
his division.
The Admiral's eyes flashed--that was not the sort of discipline he
proposed to allow. He glanced up at the bridge, where stood Captain
Fulke; but the captain either did not see the young Prince's
dilatoriness or else he did not choose to see it. Archy watched with
interest what the Admiral would do. As soon as the drill was over and
the men had left their quarters, the Prince passed close by the Admiral,
who spoke sharply to him.
"Your Royal Highness will remember that this is his Majesty's ship
_Royal George_, and not a hayfield at harvest time. Masthead, sir."
Prince William, whose rosy face instantly grew a picture of woe,
nevertheless made his way aloft with much greater alacrity than he had
made his station. The men grinned slyly at each other, and a midshipman
behind the Admiral made a motion as if to pat him on the back. Archy
opened his eyes wide--this was discipline, indeed.
Presently the Admiral passed near him. Archy saluted him respectfully,
and hoped the Admiral would speak to him, and was not disappointed.
"I hear that you and young Langton have found yourselves to be first
cousins, Mr. Baskerville," he said.
"Yes, sir; and the best of friends we were from the day we met."
"You have had considerable experience as a prisoner on British ships,
eh? First, on the _Seahorse_, then on the _Thunderer_, and now on the
_Royal George_."
"I have always been well treated, sir. That is, if I wasn't well treated
in the beginning, I was in the end."
"That speaks well for you, sir. It is sometimes difficult to get our
young officers to treat Americans with respect; but I, among
others--notably Admiral Keppel--have always insisted that they be
accorded all the consideration of prisoners of war, even before the late
formal agreement was made."
"I, for one, will remember it with gratitude, sir. But, may I say to
you, sir, that since our conversation this afternoon I have been
reflecting upon my circumstances, and I think my chances of exchange
will be better at Gibraltar than if I were to be returned to England,
as you kindly offered. No doubt the Spaniards will soon raise the siege,
and then I can easily get to France on my parole."
"No doubt--no doubt--the Spaniards must soon give it up, and you would
probably be nearer your object."
The Spaniards were never farther from giving it up than at the very
moment these words were uttered.
As the Admiral walked on, Archy was left alone. He made no move towards
speaking to the number of officers that he saw standing or walking
about; but Admiral Digby's example and well-known wishes were not lost
on them, and presently two or three came up civilly enough and talked
with him, and then it was suppertime, and Langton coming after him, the
two went below to those regions, in the depths of the ship, which were
thought good enough for the midshipmen. Archy was politely received,
though not with the cordiality that would have been extended to a French
midshipman. But Langton was a prime favorite in the mess, and the story
of his connection with Archy, and their identical relationship to Lord
Bellingham, had spread over the ship like wildfire. Therefore, the
temperature of Archy's reception was sensibly raised when Langton
announced:
"Gentlemen, Mr. Baskerville is my cousin, and we were chums before we
knew we were cousins. Mr. Baskerville is heir to a peerage if he wants
it, but he swears he had rather be an American, which at least shows
that he has a spirit of his own. So, I say, pity it is that all such are
not Englishmen."
"Agreed," piped up a very small midshipman, which caused a roar of
laughter that covered the youngster with confusion.
Archy observed that Prince William was not at the table, and some one
asking what had become of him, one of the older midshipmen said:
"Poor devil! When my relief reported I managed to bring in a remark to
the first lieutenant about Billy, but the hint was not taken, so I fancy
he is still in the cross-trees."
Just then, however, Billy walked in. He was greeted with a chorus of
jeers and cheers, with inquiries how was it aloft, and was he going to
tell his father, and did he intend, in the event he came to the throne,
to make Admiral Digby a peer, under the title of Lord Masthead, and
other remarks of a facetious nature. Billy took all this with perfect
good-nature, and called for boiled beef and potatoes, but grew
decidedly sulky when he heard there was no pudding.
Archy laughed as much as anybody at the chaff going on, and, as he had a
peculiarly rich and ringing laugh, it attracted Billy's attention, who,
without minding the banter of his comrades, seemed to feel himself
deeply injured by the amusement he afforded the young American. He
growled out something, of which the only distinct words were "American
traitors and rebels."
There was a dead silence, and Archy felt that upon his conduct at that
very moment depended the opinion of every person in the ship. He looked
the Prince squarely in the eye, and said, quietly:
"Perhaps you do not know that I am an American, and late midshipman on
the continental ship _Bon Homme Richard_."
[Illustration: "'PERHAPS YOU DO NOT KNOW THAT I AM AN AMERICAN'"]
"Yes, I know it, and damned if I care," was his Royal Highness's reply
to this.
The silence was continued. Langton, without speaking a word, smiled
slightly. He knew that a firm bearing, and that alone, would establish
Archy's position in the mess, and, having considerable knowledge of that
young gentleman, he had no doubt of the attitude he would take.
"I might, if I chose, report you to the Admiral for insulting a
prisoner of war," said Archy, in his most nonchalant manner, "but
reporting is considered a deuced ungentleman-like thing in our service.
So I will give you a drubbing, if you will fight me, as soon as I am
able. I am just out of the sick-bay."
"Oh, Lord!" cried Billy, "I'll fight you with all the pleasure in life,
but as for the Admiral--bad luck to him--he will skin me, sure, if he
finds out what I said."
"Don't be afraid," answered Archy, "and take a few boxing-lessons if you
can; it will not save you a drubbing, but it will be more sport to the
by-standers."
"Mr. What's-your-name," said Billy, advancing and holding out his hand,
"you are a gentleman, and I say so, and I shall be happy to give you
satisfaction whenever you want it."
At which, the British sense of fair-play being touched, the reefers
roared out a cheer. Billy stood, blinking and smiling, while Archy
assumed the air of a modest hero. Great interest was aroused in the
steerage by this prospective battle of the giants. Archy, who regained
his health with a bound, was extremely anxious to force events, but
Langton, who was his backer, would not hear of it; he meant his client
to be in full fettle when he tackled the scion of royalty. Meanwhile,
Archy had no fault whatever to find with his treatment in the mess, and
Billy proved himself to be one of the kindest-hearted and most generous
and unassuming creatures in the world, in spite of being rather dull and
foolish.
At last, one morning, at the mess-table, after an unusually jolly supper
the night before, when Billy and Archy had chummed together after the
most approved fashion among midshipmen, Billy remarked, sagely:
"I've been thinking, Baskerville, what is the use of our fighting? I
hate fighting. I always get the worst of it. But I can do it, you know."
"Of course. So can I. You are as game a fellow as I ever saw--and the
object of fighting among gentlemen is to prove they are game. If the
mess says so, let us consider it off."
"Why not?" replied Billy, with a grin, looking around. "They know I can
fight--I have fought 'em; but there ain't any use in fighting unless one
is obliged to."
"Not a bit," said Langton. "So, if you please, I shall be happy to
consult with your friend as to the possibility of coming to an honorable
arrangement."
"Good!" was Billy's remark; "and let me tell you, it looks to me"--here
Billy cocked his eye with great knowingness--"as if we will have some
fighting to do with powder and ball before long. The Admiral has not had
the ships kept cleared for action ever since we began to approach Cape
St. Vincent for nothing."
And then there was heard resounding through the great ship the
boatswain's pipe calling all hands on deck, and a voice was heard
shouting in the gangway:
"The Spanish fleet is sighted!"