The Rock of the Lion

by Molly Elliot Seawell

  CHAPTER V

  Several weeks passed by and, as Colonel Baskerville had predicted,nothing was left undone to make Archy feel how desirable a position LordBellingham's grandson and heir would hold. Every afternoon hisgrandfather sent for him, and talked long and interestingly to him,telling of the early days at the court of George II., describingsplendid court functions to him, and impressing upon him with great artthe important position that the Baron of Bellingham would always hold,both socially and politically--for Lord Bellingham had the disposal ofthree seats in Parliament.

  Archy listened attentively enough, but the effect of much that he heardwas directly the contrary of what his grandfather expected. Archy wasquite sharp enough to realize that many of the usual advantages of rankdid not appeal to him, while its restrictions were almost intolerable.He saw that the possession of a great name and estate, and all the vastprivileges of a peer in the eighteenth century, had only intensifiedall of his grandfather's faults, his violent temper, his dictatorialdisposition--and had neutralized his talents, which were considerable.The sight of an irritable, eccentric old man leading a life of perfectsolitude, estranged from all his family except his half-brother, andusing every art of cajolery to make himself tolerable to his onlygrandson, was not an inspiring one to a boy of Archy Baskerville's highand daring spirit and inborn love of adventure.

  Nevertheless, Lord Bellingham showed signs of softening, which were moresurprising to Colonel Baskerville and the rest of his household than toArchy, who had seen really the best of him. He seemed to take amelancholy interest in hearing of Langton's many fine qualities andpersonal charm--and one day, after a long conversation with Archy, LordBellingham said, almost as if talking to himself:

  "My poor daughter--what misery to lose such a son!"

  A day or two after that Colonel Baskerville said to Archy, in his usualkind but curt manner:

  "You have done a good thing in speaking of Langton to your grandfather.He has this day written to his daughter--the first time for twentyyears. He is really becoming quite human."

  Lord Bellingham, however, seemed to be ashamed of any soft or generousimpulse, and harangued Archy upon the subject of his daughter and herson as if the real sorrow was not Langton's death, but the loss of apossible heir to the Bellingham estates--and as for the title, he seemedto regard Archy's indifference to it as something sacrilegious.

  "All titles are not honorable, sir," said Archy. "There is Sir HenryClinton, the British commander at New York. He is called the Prince ofBlunderers. Nothing pleasant about that, sir."

  Lord Bellingham showed his appreciation of this news about Sir HenryClinton by giving a savage kick to a chair near him, which in its turnknocked over a table with candles on it, and only Archy's quicknessprevented a fire on the spot. When quiet was restored, this youngAmerican, in perfect good faith, and thinking himself rather a cleverfellow for hitting upon a solution of the question of the estates, camenear bringing a hurricane of wrath down on himself.

  "There are two girls, sir. Langton has often told me of his sisters,and you could give the estates to them."

  "Girls!" almost shrieked Lord Bellingham, and then relapsed into a stateof silent fury at the idea that Bellingham should go to two girls. Archylooked deeply hurt at the way his remark had been received, and left hisgrandfather's presence with an air of haughtiness ridiculously like theold man's, which caused Colonel Baskerville to laugh heartily at thescene. But Archy made no more suggestions as to the disposition of theBellingham estates.

  At the end of December the assizes were held at York, and LordBellingham, as Lord-lieutenant of the North Riding, was to attend themin state.

  "And I should be glad, my dear Archibald, to have your company in thecoach," said the old gentleman, in a tone of dulcet softness, havingforgiven Archy his maladroit speech.

  Archy, who would walk ten miles any day to see a fine show, readilyagreed. Nothing was said about clothes; but when Archy carefullyexamined his blue uniform that night, he found that it was indeed on itslast legs. His elbows were out, his knees were but little better, and,worse than all, he was shooting up so tall and filling out so fast thathe had completely outgrown both jacket and trousers. There was no helpfor it; Archy laid his beloved shabby uniform away carefully, and nextmorning appeared at breakfast in the handsome brown riding-suit.

  Colonel Baskerville noted it with an approving nod.

  "I fully reckoned on your getting a broken head, sooner or later, forwearing your American uniform. It was foolhardy; but I perceive, nephew,you are inclined to be foolhardy."

  "The French, sir, called Captain Jones foolhardy when he sailed into thenarrow seas with the _Ranger_ sloop, and they had fifty-five sail of theline holding on to their anchors at L'Orient; but he came back all safe,and brought the _Drake_ with him. And they said he was worse thanfoolhardy when he went out in the poor old _Bon Homme Richard_; but hecame back again, and that time he brought the _Serapis_--huzza!" HereArchy got up and cut a pigeon-wing, nearly upsetting Diggory with a trayfull of cups and saucers.

  "Let me tell you one thing, young man," remarked Colonel Baskerville,coolly; "you have a very clever trick of always having the last word,but don't imagine for a moment that it proves you are always right.Clever tricks count for but little in the long-run."

  Archy went into a brown-study at this remark, and at the end of tenminutes came out of it to say:

  "Uncle, I believe you know a great deal, one way and another."

  "Hear! hear!" said Colonel Baskerville, sarcastically. "A younggentleman not yet seventeen gracefully admits that a man three times hisage actually knows something! You amaze me, nephew."

  "I don't admit that I don't know anything," stoutly protested Archy.

  "Far from it, my dear boy. You know more now than you ever will, if youlive to be a hundred. Every year of your life you will know less--inyour own estimation, that is. But at present you have nothing to learn."

  At which Archy laughed rather sheepishly, and went on with hisbreakfast.

  Immediately after breakfast the splendid coach-and-four, with outriders,was drawn up at the main entrance, and Lord Bellingham appeared,magnificently dressed, with his breast covered with orders, and adiamond-hilted sword on his hip. He entered the coach, taking themiddle of the back seat, while Colonel Baskerville and Archy sat facinghim.

  It was a beautifully clear December morning, and when the horses tookthe road through the park at a rattling gait, it was exhilarating in thehighest degree. Colonel Baskerville's plain but kindly face lighted up,and even Lord Bellingham seemed to feel a briskness in the blood. ButArchy grew unaccountably grave. He had an indefinable feeling that hewas leaving it all for the last time, and caught himself involuntarilylooking around at the gray old castle on the hill, the slopes of thepark on which the red deer stood peacefully feeding, the low chain ofblue hills in the distance, as if he were saying farewell to them--norcould he shake off this singular impression during the whole drive.

  At the park gates they were joined by the mounted yeomanry, and everyparish they passed through sent its quota, until, when they reached theold minster city of York, they had a great cavalcade behind them. Thevenerable town was in holiday garb. The trainbands were out, with fifeand drum; the sheriffs and lord-lieutenants of all three ridings werepresent in state; and the judges in their robes awaited the forming ofthe procession to the assize hall.

  The life, the color, the masses of people who filled the picturesquestreets of the beautiful old town, were captivating to Archy--but whatamazed him most was to see a number of man-o'-warsmen about. He was notlong in finding out that there was a large fleet at the mouth of theHumber, and these were liberty men who had come to York in wagons tospend their few hours of shore time.

  But Archy was himself a sailor, and he began to consider that captainswere not wont to allow men so far inland merely for a day's holiday, andthe presence of several officers threw a flood of light on the question.

  "They are press-gangs," he th
ought to himself. "The fleet, I have heard,is short-handed, and they have selected some of the trustiest fellowsand sent them here with their officers, and many a stout countryman willsleep to-morrow night on one of his Majesty's ships."

  But Archy soon became so taken up with the splendid pageant of openingthe assizes that he forgot the sailors for the time. The highwayman andhis accomplice, the coachman of the Comet, were to be tried at thatterm, but Archy soon found that the trial would not come off until thenext day, and his testimony would not be wanted until then. All wasgrand and imposing until the prisoners were brought in, but the sight ofso much misery and wickedness smote the boy to the heart, and he quicklyleft the favored position he occupied in the hall, and went out andwalked about the streets.

  The sitting of the Court was unusually prolonged, and the short Decemberday was rapidly closing in before the procession was again formed, withsomething less of state, to return to the grand dinner served to thejudges and all the great functionaries. In the evening there was to be asplendid assize ball, and while wretches were bemoaning the sentences ofdeath or transportation they had received, and trembling prisonerswaited in anguish the coming of their turn of trial, a splendid companyassembled for the ball. But the same strange feeling of oppression stillhung upon Archy. The sights he had seen were very brilliant, but therewas something in the very word Assize that sobered him.

  After dinner he slipped quietly away from Colonel Baskerville, andjoining the crowd outside the noble building where the ball was to beheld, watched the assembling of the guests. Among the last to come washis grandfather. Never had Lord Bellingham looked more superb than whenhe descended from his coach, bowing right and left to the cheeringcrowd. He was an unpopular man, a hard landlord, and overbearing to hisequals--but he was noble to look at, and the unthinking crowd cheeredhim because of that.

  Archy felt no inclination to enter the ballroom then, and wrapping hiscloak around him, he sauntered away into the distant streets, now silentand deserted under the quiet stars.

  He was thinking deeply and rather sadly--trying to imagine how hisfather had walked those streets twenty years before--recalling Langton,and pitying his grandfather's coming loneliness when both he and ColonelBaskerville left him--for he had made up his mind to go to London withColonel Baskerville shortly, and to see what his prospects of exchangewere. He wandered on and on, until he found himself in a remote cornerof the town, opposite a quaint, old-fashioned inn, its spacious tap-roomopening on a level with the street.

  Inside were a number of sailors and countrymen, and slightly separatedfrom them, in little box-like compartments, were two or three navalofficers. Archy was surprised at this at first, but he soon reasoned itout for himself.

  "It is a regular raid they are planning," he thought, "and the officersare there to quietly direct. Oh, there will be a love of a scrimmage!"and this notion proving very enticing, Archy entered, and calling forbread and cheese and ale, seated himself in one of the little boxes bythe fire.

  The landlady, a handsome, middle-aged woman, and her three buxomdaughters, he soon guessed were in the plot with the officers, who spenttheir money freely, and kept the landlord and all his assistants on thetrot. One party at a table particularly attracted his attention. Therewere half a dozen sailors who let on, in their characteristicallyimprudent way, that they had lately been paid off at Plymouth, and beingnorth-country men, were on their way home to see their relatives insteadof spending their money in riot and dissipation in Plymouth and London.One of them, a hale, handsome, well-made man of about fifty,particularly struck Archy's eye.

  "You won't stand much of a chance, my fine fellow, with a press-gang,"thought Archy, admiring the old sailor's brawny figure and fine,sailor-like air, "nor your mates either, and if I were out on a pressfor men I don't know but I would be as quick to nab you as anybody."

  Besides the main door, there was another door opening upon a corridorthat led to the court-yard, and through this corridor passed thelandlord and his wife and daughters, and the waiters, serving theguests. Presently Archy saw an officer get up nonchalantly, open thedoor slightly, then close it, and the landlady quietly barred and lockedit. Archy, however, had a momentary glimpse down the corridor, and hecaught sight of a huge covered wagon, with four horses, drawn up in thecourt-yard.

  Five minutes afterwards every light went out like magic, leaving onlythe half-light of a blazing sea-coal fire; the front door was clappedto, and as if by a preconcerted effort a dozen sailors dashed at theseafaring men seated at the middle table, others made a rush for severalcountrymen quietly munching bread and cheese, and a general m?l?e was inorder.

  After the first moment of surprise, the sailors did not have it alltheir own way, and a tremendous uproar followed. It seemed to be quitefree from any of the enmities of a fight, though, and the landlord,standing off impartially, grinned, while the landlady and her threedaughters seemed to consider it the height of a frolic. The threeofficers on the edge of the struggling crowd shouted out orders, andseveral brawny countrymen were secured after a hard scuffle. But thesailors at the middle table were used to that sort of thing, and it wasplain that the press-gang had its work cut out to capture these men. Thenext thing they did, after fighting off the first onslaught, was tothrow themselves like a battering-ram against the door leading to thecorridor, the main door being much too heavy and too securely fastenedfor them to break it down. The corridor door gave way with a crash asthey hurled themselves against it, but a dozen sailors rushed to it, andfought them back step by step. The men, led by the handsome old fellowthat Archy had admired, held their ground stoutly, but they were slowlydriven back from the door, only to intrench themselves behind the longtables, where, brandishing chairs, shovels and tongs, sticks, andanything else they could lay hold of, they jeered at the sailors withcutlasses, and dared them to come on.

  "Catch that old fellow, my lads--he's the best topman in the service,"bawled one of the officers, and in response to this half a dozen mensurrounded the old sailor, who, armed with the kitchen poker, made itfly around like a flail. During all this uproar and confusion Archy hadsat still in his corner, a perfectly disinterested observer; but when hesaw a young sailor suddenly begin to crawl under the table to seize theold man by the legs, Archy could not remain neutral another minute. Hemade a dash at the young fellow, and, seizing him by the legs in turn,immediately found himself in the thick of the fight.

  The men who were to be pressed, encouraged by their new recruit, whoyelled out, "Stick to it, my lads! Don't let 'em take you against yourwill!" made a sortie from behind the table, valiantly led by Archy withhis sword; but this rash proceeding proved disastrous--they were quicklyoverpowered by numbers, and every one of them finally captured. Theymade a desperate fight for their new ally, and protected him to the end,the old sailor being the last to succumb; but when Archy's fortunesseemed most desperate, he suddenly found a friend in the landlady.

  "Hey, there!" exclaimed this sturdy Amazon. "Let the young gentlemanalone. He ain't no man for a press-gang!" And with that she pushed herway between the struggling, shouting men, and, planting herself firmlybefore Archy, cried out, brandishing a canister of snuff she hadsnatched off the mantel-piece, "The first man as lays hold on this hereyoung gentleman gets snuff in his eyes. And you, Hizzy, Betsy, andNancy, come here and help me to keep this sweet young gentleman out o'the way o' them murderin' ruffians, bad luck to 'em!"

  THE LANDLADY STOOD BETWEEN ARCHY AND THE OFFICER]

  Hizzy, Betsy, and Nancy, three great, strapping girls, each bigger thanArchy, ran forward at this. Hizzy, pulling out a table-drawer andhanding a rolling-pin to Betsy and another to Nancy, armed herself witha tremendous pair of shears, and, marching to her mother's side,prepared to defend "the sweet young gentleman."

  The officers and men, disconcerted for a moment by the sudden move onthe part of the women, fell back, laughing.

  "Please, sir," said one of the sailors, with a broad grin, to theofficers, "we knows how to fight men, but
we ain't used to handlin'women--and we leaves 'em to our betters."

  The landlady, who had heretofore made no objection to the rumpus goingon, now suddenly discovered that it was a very outrageous proceeding,and began to harangue at the top of her lungs.

  "Nice goings on, this, for a respectable tavern! Next thing we'll be upafore a justice and have our license took away! And arter takin' awayour customers, peaceable men as pays their score, you wants to nab withyour beastly press-gang a beautiful young gentleman, with a handsomecloak and silk stockings. But never you mind, my darlin', we'll keepthem murderin' ruffians off and send you home to your lady mother"--thislast to the hero of this tale, who, in his heart, somewhat resented thelanguage of his rescuers.

  "Madam," explained one of the officers, in a tone of the mildestargument, "we are exceedingly sorry to cause your ladyship and yourladyship's lovely daughters any inconvenience, but that young gentlemanwe mean to have, to serve as we please, for his insolence in daring toresist the King's officers; so here goes"--and at this he made a dashforward, and, seizing the landlady round the waist, attempted to dragher away. But the Amazon, as good as her word, gave him a shower ofsnuff in the face. His two brother officers, coming to his rescue, wereso unmercifully whacked on the head with the rolling-pins in the handsof Betsy and Nancy, while Hizzy jabbed at them with the shears, thatthey soon found it prudent to retire amid the roars of laughter of bothvictors and vanquished. They presently returned to the charge; and nowbeheld Mr. Archibald Baskerville, late midshipman on the continentalship _Bon Homme Richard_, dodging back and forth behind the women'spetticoats, and always managing to keep the buxom form of one of theirladyships, as the officer had called them, between him and hisassailants. Meanwhile, what with the scuffle, the sneezing from thesnuff which the landlady had so freely distributed, and the roars oflaughter with which the combat was witnessed, the cries and shouts,there was a noise like Bedlam; but Archy, anxiously dodging hither andyon, found nothing to laugh at in his somewhat grotesque circumstances.The fight was desperate, the manoeuvring masterly--but, at last, a younglieutenant with a long arm seized Archy from behind Hizzy's skirts, andgiving him a clip on the ear, he suddenly fell over, and the worldbecame a blank to him; he heard not another sound and knew nothing moreof the fight with the press-gang.