The Rock of the Lion

by Molly Elliot Seawell

  CHAPTER XV

  Behold our young friend, having travelled from the southern coast almostto Madrid with a Spanish general of the highest family, now prepared tomake the rest of his journey to France as a member of a company ofmountebanks!

  His first introduction into this new profession was anything butpleasant. As soon as they arrived at the tent, where the two women,Maria and Julia, were cooking supper, Jos? opened a chest and took out atawdry and dirty costume, which he proposed that Archy should wear. Nowthe green velvet jacket, the brown breeches with silver buttons, and theyellow gaiters of a peasant had gone hard with Archy, but at least theywere clean, and this acrobatic costume was not. He looked at it, sniffedat it, and finally, in a volley of Spanish and French, declared he wouldnot wear it. That came near losing him his engagement. Jos? swore thatwear it he must; Archy vowed that wear it he wouldn't. Maria, Jos?'swife, solved the difficulty by saying:

  "See, it makes no difference--it is too small for him, anyhow."

  Then they all calmed down, and ate supper very amicably out of a largepannikin of something or other which tasted violently of onions, leeks,and garlic.

  Next morning early they took up the line of march. Among Jos?'spossessions was a stout horse, by name B?b?, which Jos? regarded as byfar the most important member of the company. When hitched to the rudecart which transported their belongings, Archy thought there was stillroom for the two women; but, to his surprise, Maria and Julia toiledalong contentedly, each with a pack on her back, while the three mencarried nothing. Archy had nothing to carry except his shirts and histwo books. Naturally, he was very much disgusted with the want ofchivalry of the gentlemen of the party, and offered to help both of theladies with their burdens. But they scarcely understood what he meant byhis offer, and laughed at him for it. They showed their good-will tohim, though, by proposing to wash his shirts for him, which hethankfully accepted, and afterwards astonished them very much by thefrequency with which he called upon them for this service.

  By the time the day's march was over, Archy found that he had fallen inwith a very honest set of people, although rude and unlettered. Next daythey reached a small town, and gave their first performance in thepublic square. The wire was stretched for the tight-rope walking, andJos? shrewdly fastened it to the balcony of a tall building with achimney, not unlike the one near Madrid where Archy had first appearedin public. Maria, disguised as a gypsy, sat in the tent, which wasdecorated with bunting, and told marvellous fortunes to the gapingrustics who were credulous enough to cross her hand with silver. Luis'sperformance on the trapeze was considered fine, and was much applauded;and when he got through, Jos?, as general director of affairs, advanced,and, ringing a huge bell to secure silence, began an oration whichsurprised Archy as much as anybody.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he cried, "you will now see a marvellousperformance by Se?or Archibaldisto de Baskervilliano, a distinguishedIndian gentleman from North America. Se?or Archibaldisto was once asailor, and as all the vessels in his country have masts as high as thespire of Seville Cathedral, it is nothing for him to dance the bolero onthe top of yonder chimney. He is the heir to immense estates, and hisfather is a grandee of the first class in North America. But having beenstolen in his youth, he adopted the acrobatic profession, and hasperformed with great applause before all the crowned heads of NorthAmerica."

  Archy bowed modestly in response to the tremendous applause which thisevoked, and began his trapeze performance.

  As he was now endeavoring to do his best, and as he had practised in thelast day or two, he acquitted himself to the delight of the people, andwhen he repeated his performance of shinning up the chimney, although hecould not dance the bolero on top of it, he went through with somegymnastic performances which charmed the crowd. When their afternoon'swork was over, and Julia handed around her apron for contributions, Jos?divided the money with perfect honesty among them, and Archy'sone-eighth was somewhat more than he expected.

  As Jos? had promised, they pushed on rapidly, only giving performancesin the larger villages and towns. Luis, without the slightestprofessional jealousy, taught Archy the bolero, and he was able tointroduce the national dance of Spain in some of his exhibitions. Healso taught Jos? many things, and in a little while their jointperformance so charmed Jos? that he began to try and persuade Archy toreturn to Madrid with them, and was quite disgusted when Archy onlylaughed at him.

  Archy was sometimes surprised at his own happiness on that journey. Thetravel was fatiguing, the fare rough, the work hard; but it was underthe open sky, he was with honest people, and he was travelling towardsfreedom. He had lost all fear of being arrested for an Englishman, but,as it turned out, that danger still remained, and eventually came nearto cost him dear.

  On the tenth day from Madrid they reached Vitoria, and gave aperformance in the quaint old town.

  Jos? made his harangue concerning Se?or Archibaldisto, dwelling upon thefact that he was a sailor by profession. The crowd was made up, asusual, of villagers and peasants; but Archy observed a group of three orfour persons, one in the dress of a notary, which seemed of a betterclass. Archy did better than usual even, the crowd applaudedvociferously, and Julia, going about holding her apron out, soon had itheavy with copper coins.

  The notary, a keen-eyed fellow, was saying quietly to his companions:

  "This Se?or Archibaldisto is an impostor--that is, he is a gentleman.Look at his hands; they are sunburned, but no more out of shape withwork than a fine lady's. And he is an Englishman. I have been in Englandand I know them. He is no North American; the North Americans areIndians--black, like the Moors. Listen to his Spanish. He speaksrapidly, but incorrectly, and I know the English accent. Depend upon it,he is an English spy--probably from Gibraltar."

  This was enough. A cry went up from the notary's companions, of whichthe crowd quickly caught the meaning, and then, like a pack of wolves,they howled:

  "A spy! A spy from Gibraltar! An English spy! Garrote him! Let him begarroted!"

  Archy was standing on the ground near the open door of the tent whereMaria was telling fortunes. As he heard this ominous cry he turned to gointo the tent, but Jos? met him at the door. The Spaniard's face wasblack with hate.

  "You are an English spy!" he hissed.

  "I swear to you I am not--I swear before God that I am not a spy!" criedArchy.

  Jos? barred the way for a moment, but suddenly Maria, who had seemednothing more than a beast of burden, rose and pushed him out of the way.

  "Come," she said to Archy, for the crowd was now closing around themmenacingly.

  Maria spoke to Jos? in a clear, high voice, audible over the enragedmurmurs and shouts and cries of the crowd:

  "Do you call yourself a Christian, and stand by and let this honest boyfall into the hands of these blood-thirsty people? Jos? Monza, I amashamed that you are my husband!"

  Jos?, stunned by this declaration of independence from the submissiveMaria, could do nothing but turn his head from side to side, with hismouth gaping wide open.

  Maria, albeit her wits were newly found, had them all about her, andwhispered to Archy hurriedly, as she dragged him in the tent:

  "While I am talking with the crowd in front, slit the tent behind, anddash through the crowd. There is a church-yard to the left--you willknow the spire of the church because it is the only white one insight--and to-morrow morning before daylight we will come to thechurch-yard." Then she advanced to the tent door, and, shoving Jos? outof the way as if he were a bale of goods, began an animated harangue tothe people, who gathered around the door to hear her, but interruptedher every moment with demands for the English spy.

  In another moment Archy had cut with his pocket-knife a long slit in thetent, had sprung out, and was flying down a narrow and tortuous street.Immediately the mob was in full cry after him, but all at once he seemedto sink into the ground before them. He had caught sight in his flightof an open trap-door leading into one of those underground shops socommon in Spanish towns;
he dropped noiselessly into it, pulled the trapdown with him, and heard hundreds of feet trampling as the multituderushed on in pursuit of him.

  As soon as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he saw there wasno one in the shop. There was another room behind it, which opened intoa garden. Feeling sure that the proprietor would be back in a very shorttime, Archy realized that he must be getting away very shortly. Heslipped through the back room, ran up some crazy steps into the garden,and to his delight he saw through the gathering gloom the white spire ofwhich Maria had told him.

  The garden door was locked, but the key hung on a nail inside. Withthis he let himself softly out, and found himself in a narrow passagewith garden-walls on one side and the back windows of houses on theother. It was quite dark in there, and he sped along unseen until hereached the end, and before him were the ivy-covered walls of thechurch-yard. It was but a moment's work to climb over. This being done,he hid himself behind a huge old mausoleum under a grove of ilex-trees;and then he felt safe. He could hear the cries and the patter of feetdying away in the distance, and soon all was still; darkness came onquickly and perfect silence reigned, broken presently by the mellowringing of the Angelus bells. Then all was quiet again.

  Archy was cold and hungry, but he did not allow this to disturb him. Theblack shadows cast by the ilex-trees made him quite invisible undertheir low, overhanging branches, and he spent the whole night walking upand down to keep warm. As the first gray light of the coming dawnappeared his listening ears caught the sound of some one creepingoutside the wall. He quickly clambered over, and there was Maria with ahuge empty basket, which she put on his back, and together they trudgedrapidly off in the direction of the high-road.

  "Remember," said Maria, "if we are stopped you are to be my brother; youare too old to be my son, and too young to be my husband."

  "I think it an honor to be related in any way to so good a woman as you,Maria," gallantly replied Archy.

  On the outskirts of the town they found the rest of the party with thecart and B?b?, and by hard travelling from dawn until midnight theyreached the Bidassoa, the boundary between France and Spain. Theyencamped on the French side of the river, and after a rest of a wholeday and night they set out for St.-Jean-de-Luz.

  They were now on French soil, and Archy's heart bounded with joy andhope and gratitude. At St.-Jean-de-Luz he had to part with his humblefriends. He had enough money to take him to Paris, travellingeconomically, and his late experiences proved to him that his own goodlegs would enable him to get there even if his money gave out. Beforeparting they gave two grand performances, in which Archy quite outshonehimself, and they took in a considerable sum of money. With his shareArchy bought some little memento for each of his kind friends. Jos? andMaria not only had the pain of parting with Archy, but also with B?b?,that they had determined to sell for about twice his value. Their onlyconsolation was that they had sold him to one of the woman postilions,common enough in those days, who plied between St.-Jean-de-Luz andBayonne, and Archy was to ride B?b? the day's journey between the twoplaces. The farewells were touching. All the men kissed Archy, after theSpanish fashion, and he kissed Maria and Julia, and thanked them fromthe bottom of his heart--particularly Maria, to whom he felt he owed hislife. Maria wept bitterly, and Archy said to her, with the greatestsincerity: "Maria, as long as I live, whenever I see or hear of a goodwoman I shall think of you." At last he was started on his journey. OnB?b?'s broad back was one of those queer double saddles which were thenused in the Basque Provinces. Archy sat on one side, while on the otherwas perched a stout Basque woman, Teresa by name. Being a sailor, Archywas perfectly willing to ride anything in any manner, from a goat to anelephant, and always at full speed. Teresa claimed jurisdiction over thehorse, but this Archy would by no means admit, and just as they werepassing through the market-place he gave B?b? a smart cut with aknotted handkerchief, and the next thing he knew he was floundering amidthe ruins of a wicker chicken-coop, the frightened fowls clacking andflapping wildly, while a dozen market-women were abusing him at once inFrench and Spanish; and Teresa, loud above all, was haranguing him onhis cruelty to poor B?b?, the horse, that did not seem to Archy as muchan object of sympathy as himself. He was disentangled from the coop andthe fowls by two handsome Basque girls, who, however, lost all favor inhis eyes by laughing at him openly. Very sulky and disgusted, he mountedagain, and Teresa guided the stout B?b? out of the town and along theroad to Bayonne.

  Archy counted that day as among the most unpleasant of his life. Teresaalternated with laughing at him and scolding him. In a rage hedismounted and walked, when Teresa, whipping B?b? into a fast trot,caused Archy to run after her frantically for fear he should never seeeither Teresa or B?b? again. When they reached Bayonne that night theyparted with mutual sentiments of disesteem.

  The rest of his journey to Paris was uneventful, and on a Februaryevening he found himself standing at the door of the large, pleasanthouse, set in an ample garden at Passy, which M. Ray de Chaumont hadgenerously given to the American representatives. Archy's heart beatrapturously. He scarcely expected to meet Paul Jones, the most he hopedfor being to hear that the Commodore was somewhere on the French coast.But just as he raised the knocker and gave a thundering rat-tat-tat thedoor opened, and he almost walked into Paul Jones's arms.

  "My captain!" cried Archy.

  "My brave little midshipman!" exclaimed Paul Jones; and they embraced,and Archy was not ashamed of the happy tears that filled his eyes. Andthen Paul Jones held him off at arm's-length, and cried:

  "How you are grown! And how handsome you are! And what adventures haveyou had? And, faith! how glad I am to see you again!"

  They heard a clear voice behind them saying:

  "This, then, is the lost Pleiad--the young gentleman who was picked upby the British at the Texel."

  It was Dr. Franklin who spoke. Archy turned to him and involuntarilyremoved his hat--so noble, so venerable was this august man.

  "Come, Commodore, you do not want to go now. You and your young friendmust remain to sup with me," continued Dr. Franklin; and Archy, almostabashed by the honor shown him, proudly and delightedly accepted.

  Never could Archy Baskerville forget this first evening in the companyof those two extraordinary men. Dr. Franklin's dry and penetrating wit,his acute reasoning, would have impressed the dullest intelligence;while Paul Jones, whose schemes were great and far-reaching, had plansin view well calculated to dazzle an ambitious young mind like ArchyBaskerville's. Nor was he entirely silent. He felt, of course, under astrict obligation to say nothing about the condition of Gibraltar, buthe told of the unyielding courage of the garrison, of the fortitude ofthe women, and of the many noble and admirable incidents that hadoccurred; he actually found himself telling the story of throwing thepeacock down the skylight upon the Hanoverian officers, and the oldGenoese woman being blown through the window. He was so much encouragedby Dr. Franklin's laughter and Paul Jones's that he told of his journeythrough Spain, his career as an acrobat; he even related the story ofTeresa, the double saddle, and his fall into the chicken-coop, and someof his other adventures. But when Paul Jones questioned him about LordBellingham, Archy could not refrain, in the boyish vanity of his heart,from recounting some of the various duellos at wit in which he and hisgrandfather had been engaged--and he only related those in which he hadcome out ahead, like the affair about his American uniform. Paul Jonesshouted with laughter, while Dr. Franklin quietly chuckled. At last,about ten o'clock, Paul Jones made ready to return to Paris, saying toArchy:

  "You must share my lodgings, Mr. Baskerville. I am afraid to trust soadventurous a young gentleman out of my sight." And Archy delightedlyaccepted.

  And now came a time more easy and brilliant in some respects, and moreharassing and anxious in others, than Archy had ever known. He livedwith Paul Jones in his Paris lodgings, and, like him, his time waspassed between anxious journeys to L'Orient, to find new difficultiesamong the _Alliance_ and the _Ariel_ and their crews, and vex
atious andannoying transactions with the French Minister of Marine.

  Paul Jones was a favorite at Versailles and in the highest society inParis, and he was glad to take with him in those dazzling palaces ahandsome and dashing young officer like Archy, who now wore a splendidcontinental naval uniform, and who enjoyed the glitter and splendor ofall he saw. But, like Paul Jones, he would have hailed with joy anyprospect of getting away from this glittering but useless life into thereal service of his country.

  Of course the subject of Archy's exchange was at once taken up. All theofficers of his rank captured on the _Bon Homme Richard_ had beenalready exchanged, so that he had before him the dreary and tediousbusiness of trying to arrange an exchange with some young army officerof the same rank in America. The summer came and waned, as did theautumn, and no headway was made in his affair, nor in the greater affairof Paul Jones procuring an armed ship, which was continually promisedbut never forthcoming. The gloomy prospects of the American cause atthat time made it daily more unlikely that he would get a ship. PaulJones's spirits sank, and so did Archy's. They remained more closely attheir lodgings, and the scenes of splendid gayety which they hadfrequented a few months before saw them no more. Only Dr. Franklin,serene and majestic, lost neither heart nor hope.

  One night in November, 1781, Paul Jones and Archy sat together in theirlodgings, which were close by the house of the Minister of War. Neverhad they felt so despairing of their country. They knew that both SirHenry Clinton and Lord Cornwallis had been reinforced in America, andthat Rodney's fleet was on its way there to strike a mortal blow to thefleet of De Grasse, from which much had been expected and nothing hadcome. Besides these sad thoughts, Archy's heart was heavy when hethought of his friends at Gibraltar. Were they still living andstarving? Or had they at last found rest in death?

  The fire burned itself out, the candles flickered in their sockets;midnight came, yet neither made any move towards going to bed. Archyfelt a singular restlessness in spite of his misery--he felt in theattitude of one waiting for something to happen. At last it came, at oneo'clock in the morning. Far up the stony street they heard the clatterof a horse's hoofs going at full gallop.

  "It is an official messenger. He is stopping at the h?tel of the WarMinister," said Archy, in an intense whisper; and the next minute hetore down the three flights of stairs of the tall house in which theylodged, unfastened a window in the _entresol_ and jumped out, instead ofwaiting for the _concierge_ to be waked up, and found himself speedingalong the street, and Paul Jones, neither so young nor so active, notfar behind him.

  Windows were being opened, people were collecting hurriedly on thestreets, and a little crowd already stood around the steaming horse fromwhich the messenger had just alighted and had disappeared within thedoors. In an upper window on the first floor of the splendid h?tel alight quickly appeared--the War Minister was receiving the news. Thecrowd below waited, some in breathless silence, others exclaiming andgesticulating in their excitement, and every moment the people increasedin numbers. Presently the window was flung up, and the War Minister,with a white nightcap on his head and a dressing-gown wrapped round him,put his head out and raised his hand for silence. Instantly every voicewas hushed.

  "Good news--great news--from our allies in North America! On the 19th ofOctober, at Yorktown, in Virginia, Lord Cornwallis, with all hisforce--guns, stores, and several vessels--surrendered to General GeorgeWashington, in command of the joint forces of America and France. _Vivel'Am?rique!_"

  Before the crowd could shout, a sudden, wild cry of joy went up from ayoung man and an older one who stood together, clasping each other, withtears running down their faces. The French might cheer and huzza intheir triumph, as they did, waking up the entire quarter of Paris, andcausing an outpouring of the whole population, but the patriotic joy ofPaul Jones and Archy Baskerville was too deep for words. Theirs was apassionate thanksgiving which could only be expressed by Paul Jones as,uncovering his head, he said, reverently:

  "Let us bless the good God for his mercies to our dear country!"