"Now, tell me, my captain," cried Archy, "what I have been longing to
ask--what brought you to England?"
"A desire to serve my country. Knowing that I must soon return to
America, and hoping that one of the first things which will engage the
attention of Congress will be the organization of a navy, I determined
to find out all I could about the English dock-yards. For this purpose I
landed at Plymouth two weeks ago. I managed, by means I cannot now
reveal to you, to inspect the dock-yards at Plymouth and Portsmouth
both, and I have in my head a complete knowledge of the methods by which
the British navy is built, armed, manned, and victualled; and this
information I shall lay before the Marine Committee of Congress as soon
as I return. I have also a complete list of every ship in the British
navy, with the rating, metal, boats, officers, and men, when and where
built, and present station and employment. How I got it goes with me to
the grave, a secret.[1] Meanwhile, it became advisable for me to get
away from England as soon as possible. I found all the ports in the
south of England were watched, but I played with my enemies by taking
post for Yorkshire. The captain of a Portuguese vessel, which lay at
Gravesend, was to call at Bridlington for a part of his cargo, and I
persuaded him, by the promise of a considerable sum of money, to wait
for me north of the Humber for three days. He is probably there now, and
he is to land me in France. And now for our mutual adventures."
"Your's first, of course."
And then Paul Jones began and gave Archy a clear account of how things
were going, as nearly as he could tell, in America. It was then Archy's
turn, and he told with great relish of Lord Bellingham's efforts to
induce him to become a British subject, of Colonel Baskerville's
unvarying kindness and wisdom, of Trevor Langton's brilliant prospects,
in case he were alive.
"I hope he may still be living; but I heard through a well-informed
person in London that sickness was making fearful inroads upon the
garrison. I remembered your cousin's name, and asked if there were news
of him. It seems that the Duc de Crillon is most generous in allowing
news of individuals, and I was told that he had lately had a severe
attack of fever, and it was not known whether he was alive or dead."
This was distressing news for Archy to hear. He was silent a few
moments, and then said:
"I will mention this first to my uncle, and leave it to him whether he
will tell my aunt and cousins and my grandfather. It will break his
mother's heart if Langton is--" Here Archy stopped, unable to continue;
but after a while he recovered himself, and began to take his usual
cheerful view of Langton's chances.
"He may be as well as you and I are at this moment, so I will not allow
myself to fear for him. And now, will you advise me for myself?"
"I can only repeat to you the advice I gave you in Paris. If I saw the
slightest danger of your being beguiled into giving up your country, I
would wish you to leave England at once. As it is, I see that Lord
Bellingham is most kindly disposed towards you; and you are much better
off until affairs have finally settled themselves with him, and
especially Colonel Baskerville, of whom I have formed a high opinion.
Remember, you are still, technically, an officer on parole, and so you
will remain until peace is signed. I recommend, both for your interest
as well as your real welfare, to remain with your relatives until you
are quite free. I am glad to see that you have some domestic influences.
It is well for a young man who has no mother or sisters to have the
association with some one else's mother and sisters--and if the mother
of those sweet and modest girls be like them, you are fortunate."
Archy had not thought he could laugh so soon after hearing of Langton's
supposed illness, but at the recollection of Mary's and Isabel's
gratification and delight at being noticed by Paul Jones, Archy burst
into laughter, long and loud.
"If you could but hear us quarrel! My cousins are, as you say, sweet and
modest; but they hate everything connected with our cause, and when I
tell them that it is you--"
Paul Jones joined in Archy's merriment, so that the postilion thought
the two gentlemen inside had lost their minds, they laughed so much.
They reached the first and last stage--a village on the coast--at
daylight. From thence Archy was to return to Bellingham in the
post-chaise. Dawn was breaking over the German Ocean, and the east
glowed with a soft radiance that was turning the sky to an exquisite
rose-color, and was presently to break into the splendor of the sunrise.
Few vessels dotted the sea, but near the shore lay a Portuguese
brigantine, which Paul Jones at once recognized. Afar off, the pile of
Scarborough Castle frowned over the sea. Paul Jones's eyes sparkled, as
did Archy's, when they looked seaward.
"It was yonder," cried Paul Jones, "that we fought the _Serapis_. Under
those waves rests what was left of the gallant old _Bon Homme Richard_.
Yonder is the sea on which I struck one good and ringing blow for my
country!"
"And made the name of Paul Jones immortal," replied Archy, feeling his
heart swell at the sight of the man who had earned so much glory on that
spot.
The parting was painful for both, although they expected to meet shortly
in their own liberated and victorious country; but it was brief. The
brigantine sent a boat ashore, and almost before Archy realized that he
had said good-bye to his friend and captain, Paul Jones was aboard, and
the brigantine was stretching out to sea with a fair wind.
Archy turned towards the little public-house where the horses were
baited, and ordered some breakfast for himself. He felt dazed. It seemed
to him as if weeks separated him from the same hour the day before.
After getting his breakfast he went to the chaise, while the horses were
resting, entered it, and fell sound asleep. He did not stir until noon.
By that time the horses were being put to, and they took the road for
home. Archy, who was a good sleeper, dozed nearly all the way, but he
was disturbed by troubled dreams and thoughts of Langton. However, when
in the dusk of evening he drove up to Bellingham he was quite wide
awake, and not all his anxieties for his friend could wholly damp his
glee at his prospective triumph over Mary and Isabel. He had no fears as
to the manner in which Lord Bellingham would receive him after knowing
the name of his mysterious guest. His grandfather would never on earth
admit that he had been hoodwinked in any way, and no matter how
chagrined he was he would put a bold face on it. But Isabel and Mary!
Archy rushed in the hall and found them sitting around the fire as they
had been the previous evening, with the addition of Colonel Baskerville
and Mrs. Langton.
"Grandfather," bawled Archy, quite unable to moderate his exultation,
"do you know who it was you entertained last night? Ha! ha!"
"Perfectly," replied Lord Bellingham, with a cold smile.
Archy felt rather flat, and looked reproachfully at Colonel Baskerville,
who, he felt convinced, had robbed him of the pleasure of springing the
sensation on his grandfather. But Mary and Isabel were left. Colonel
Baskerville had not been cruel enough to deprive him of that delicious
triumph over them.
"Do _you_ know, Mary and Isabel?" he cried.
"No," replied Isabel, "but he was so graceful and agreeable. We told
mamma we were sure he is a man of rank."
"So he is," shouted Archy, in reply.
"And there was something so romantic about him," chimed in Mary.
"When he showed us the portrait of Queen Marie Antoinette, we thought it
might be possible--though I dare say it was foolish enough--that he
might be the King's brother, the Comte d'Artois."
At this Archy capered with delight. Colonel Baskerville whispered
something to Mrs. Langton, who started with surprise, but who laughed in
her gentle way at the little comedy being played by Archy, whom she had
learned to love, and Mary and Isabel.
"At all events, he was very civil," announced Isabel, "and I am sure I
hope he liked the way we curtseyed. Oh, how easy it is to tell persons
of rank and birth."
"Indeed, that is true," Mary echoed; "and I dare say, cousin Archy, your
friend is very much opposed to these extraordinary American sympathies
and notions of yours."
"Do you want to know who he is?" shrieked Archy, joyfully. "Do you want
to know, I say? He is Captain Paul Jones, of the continental navy--so
much for his rank; and as for his birth, he is the son of a gardener.
O-oo-ooh!" Archy's yells of rapturous laughter fairly made the roof
ring, and it was so infectious that even Lord Bellingham burst into a
cackle--the nearest approach he ever made to audible laughter.
But it was no laughing matter to Mary and Isabel. They sat as if
paralyzed, looking blankly at each other, and quite stunned by the
magnitude of the mistake they had made. Mary gasped out:
"Paul--"
And Isabel added, faintly:
"Jones."
And then, unable to stand the laughter, in which even their mother
joined, while Colonel Baskerville haw-hawed openly, they flung out of
the hall and rushed up to their rooms, where, locked in each other's
arms, they wept bitterly from pure chagrin.
All this was bliss to Archy, but serious thoughts were lurking in his
mind. He took the first opportunity to speak to Colonel Baskerville
alone without attracting observation--and that opportunity did not come
until bedtime, in the Colonel's own room. Then he repeated what Paul
Jones had told him of Langton's illness.
"Poor lad! poor lad!" said Colonel Baskerville, pacing the floor. "I
never saw him, but in my heart I love him. I think, with you, it is best
not to tell his mother of this new anxiety, but it would be well to let
Lord Bellingham know. As Captain Paul Jones says, the Duc de Crillon is
most chivalrous in permitting communications with the garrison at
Gibraltar respecting individuals, and there might be means, through Lord
Bellingham's influence at the Admiralty, to find out something about
Langton."
Next morning all the members of the household were surprised when they
found that Lord Bellingham's solicitor had arrived from York at an
early hour. Archy surmised that the solicitor had been sent for in
regard to making Lord Bellingham's will, and was not surprised, during
the course of the afternoon, to be invited to his grandfather's room.
Lord Bellingham thought he had made up his mind to make Langton his sole
heir, but Archy had so won upon his pride and ambition, which took the
place of a heart with him, that he could not forbear one last appeal to
him.
When Archy, so frank, so manly, so handsome, stood before him, Lord
Bellingham yearned to make him the heir; and for that purpose assumed a
dignity and sweetness of manner which he possessed, but rarely
exhibited. Although Archy's determination was too firm to be shaken, he
realized that Lord Bellingham could be, when he chose, a very persuasive
man. Lord Bellingham used every argument, and one in especial was
peculiarly touching to Archy, while not convincing.
"I will acknowledge," he said, "after having been of another mind for
thirty years, that I was unduly hard on your father. He was a better son
to me than I was a father to him. Suffer me, therefore, to ease my
conscience of its reproach to my dead son by helping me to give you your
rights."
Archy remained silent. He knew not how to put his refusal in words, but
presently he rose.
"Grandfather," he said, "I thank you for your justice to my father. He
had his faults to other people, but he had none to me; and if I follow
his injunctions I shall never disgrace him or you or myself. I feel
sure, though, that he would advise me to stand by my country, and I must
do it. But you have another grandson--at least, I hope you have--who is
much more likely to fulfil your expectation than I am--Trevor Langton."
All this was very pretty, thought Lord Bellingham, but it did not serve
to give him his own way, which he dearly loved, and especially in this
great and important matter. From the most winning mildness he suddenly
changed to the blackness of wrath. He sat quite silent, beating the
devil's tattoo on the floor, and suddenly burst out with--
"Hang it! I'll give you a thousand pounds and let you go back to your
damned country!"
"Thank you--thank you!" cried Archy, who inherited his grandfather's
disinclination to acknowledge that he was disappointed. "A thousand
pounds! I'll be glad to get a hundred, sir! And a thousand! It will buy
me my outfit for the navy, when we get one, and leave enough to live
like a prince on besides!"
At which Lord Bellingham most unexpectedly found himself laughing, in
his silent way, to see that what he had intended to be a miserable
pittance should be received so debonairly by this unconventional
youngster.
"And now, sir, may I go and tell my aunt that you have cut me off with a
shilling, so to speak--for I take it that Langton is to be your heir
now, poor chap, if he is living?"
"You may; and I say, you dog--I'll give you two thousand pounds."
Archy dashed into Mrs. Langton's sitting-room, where, with Colonel
Baskerville, Isabel, and Mary, she was anxiously awaiting the result of
the conference.
"Hurrah, aunt!" he cried, "my grandfather has behaved like a king. He
has given me two thousand pounds, and the rest will be Trevor's. And
now, Miss Mary and Miss Isabel," he added, maliciously, "I beg you to
notice that I could have been as English as you if I had chosen, and
could have been a lord to boot--but not I! If I can but get a
lieutenant's commission in the American navy, I'd rather have it than to
be Lord Bellingham of Bellingham Castle. Do you believe me now?"
And even Mary and Isabel received the announcement with respect. Mrs.
Langton kissed him tenderly, saying:
"You are a noble boy, and I wish you were my son, too," while Colonel
Baskerville shook his hand warmly.
"You have done the very thing I could not wish you to do," he said, "but
I must admit that you have acted the gentleman and the man of honor."
Lord Bellingham showed that he was in earnest in sending for his
solicitor to make his will, but the news they had just learned of
Langton's illness made it important that it should be known whether he
were still alive at the moment of disposing of so much property. Lord
Bellingham showed the most intense eagerness. After having put off
making his will until his old age, he then became morbidly desirous to
make it; and at last, after many conferences with his solicitor and
Colonel Baskerville, the Colonel hit upon a plan in his own mind on
which he congratulated himself. He spoke privately to the solicitor
about it before mentioning it to Archy or Lord Bellingham.
"My nephew, Mr. Baskerville, has a safe-conduct from the French
government which would easily enable him to go to Gibraltar by way of
France. He could go there, find out whether Trevor Langton is alive or
dead--alive, I trust and pray--and return in one-half the time it would
take for an inquiry through the regular channels. I have no doubt he
would go. He is at the restless age which, happily, does not last
always; and besides, if he does this for Langton, it must meet with a
reward from my brother besides the paltry two thousand pounds he has
promised, or rather threatened, in his will. But not a word of this to
my nephew. He is not without perversity, and besides, having done a
noble and disinterested thing, however mistaken we may think it, he is
too acute to sully it by trying to make interest with his grandfather
afterwards."
Lord Bellingham grasped eagerly at this, and, of his own volition, said:
"I should not fail to remember this in making my testamentary
arrangements."
It was enough to mention the journey to Archy. The eyes of Europe were
turned on Gibraltar. The moment was fast approaching when the last
mortal struggle was coming between the dauntless garrison and the
gigantic naval and military power of France and Spain, and no young man
of spirit but would have been fascinated at the idea of seeing the
climax of these great events. Archy could not start soon enough to
please himself, and, within the week, had taken the road to London. He
travelled in state, in Lord Bellingham's private post-chaise, which was
to take him to London. He carried with him letters to Admiral
Kempenfelt, who commanded the _Royal George_--one of the splendid fleet
of thirty-four vessels that were being made ready at Spithead, night and
day, for an effort to save Gibraltar--and numerous other letters,
calculated to forward his journey to France under a flag of truce, and
he had also a considerable sum of money in gold.
He stopped but a day in London, to have his safe-conduct viséd at the
Admiralty. Then he sent the post-chaise back with a long letter to his
grandfather, and a short but affectionate one to Trevor Langton's
mother. In this last, he actually forced himself to send his love to
Mary and Isabel, but he could not forbear adding at the bottom:
"P.S.--DEAR AUNT,--I hope my cousins are not pining away for
Captain Paul Jones. He admires the ladies very much, but I do not
think he has the intention to ask any particular fair one to share
his glorious destiny with him. Break this gently to my cousins.
"A. B."
That very afternoon Archy took post for Portsmouth, and arrived there in
a few hours. He went to the celebrated Angel Inn, and tumbled into bed,
and was astir early the next morning to find a way of reaching the
mighty and invincible Rock.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Paul Jones did possess this list, and he never revealed the source
of his information, which was supposed to be some one high in authority
at the Admiralty.