The Rock of the Lion, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  The Comet coach, from London to York, left the Angel Inn, on the bordersof Yorkshire, at three o'clock in the November afternoon, on the laststage of the journey.

  It was bitterly cold, and the low-hanging clouds held snow. Inside thetavern parlor the passengers hugged the fire and looked dismally out ofthe small-paned windows on the court-yard at the coach, to which thehorses were being put, while the coachman, taking his last nip from apewter pot at the kitchen window, chaffed the bar-maid and playfullyflecked his whip at the postilion busy with the horses near by.

  Among the passengers lingering around the fire was Archy Baskerville. Hestill wore his uniform, which had grown excessively shabby; but he wasnot without money. He had engaged the box-seat, and had paid for it in alordly manner, showing, meanwhile, with boyish vanity and imprudence, ahandsome rouleau of gold. He had a very handsome new cloak of dark-bluecamlet, elegantly lined, and with a fur collar; and his seedyknee-breeches were ornamented with a costly pair of buckles.

  The singular contrast in his dress could not fail to excite remark. Anindividual known as a bagman began to chaff him, while the otherpassengers listened and smiled.

  "Wot's the matter with your clothes, young man? Did you kill a Frenchcaptain in that 'ere suit--as you won't change it?"

  Archy disdained to reply to this, and, wrapping his handsome cloakaround him, produced a pair of pistols--not the great horse-pistols ofthe day, but of the kind used by officers; then he tightened the belt ofthe sword he wore, according to the custom in those days--all with anair of nonchalance that would have suited a man of twice his age.

  A pert young woman in a hat and feathers, and travelling alone, thenbegan:

  "La, me! Have we got to travel in company with them pistols? Sure,they'll go off, little boy, and then we'll all be weltering in ourblood."

  A flush of anger rose to Archy's cheek at this, but he wisely held hispeace. His eye fell, however, upon a gentleman on the opposite side ofthe fireplace, who was wrapped in a cloak much larger and heavier thanArchy's, and who, like him, was examining the flints of a pair ofpistols--and the gentleman also wore a military sword. He was tall andthin, and had the carriage of a soldier. His face was sallow, and farfrom handsome, but his eyes were full of kindness and intelligence, andas they met Archy's a subtle sympathy was established between them.Archy guessed, shrewdly, that the military gentleman was an Indianofficer.

  The bagman soon returned to the charge.

  "Where's the footman as has charge o' you?" he asked.

  "I had not thought of engaging a footman," responded Archy, coolly; "butif you are looking for a place, perhaps I might take you. What sort of acharacter can you get from your last master?"

  A roar of laughter, in which the officer joined to the extent of asmile, greeted this, and the young woman called out:

  "Bless 'is 'art! I knew he must 'ave a good 'art under that 'andsomecloak!"

  The blowing of a bugle by the guard at the door broke up theconversation. The discomfited bagman made first for the coach, and theyoung woman with the hat and feathers bolted after him. A sweet-faced,elderly Quakeress and a handsome young Oxford student followed. Archycame next, and the officer held back a moment to speak to him.

  "I observe, sir," he said, politely, "you wear a blue naval uniform, butit is unlike that of our service--at least, any that I have seen, but Ihave been long absent from England."

  "This is an American uniform, sir," responded Archy, politely. "I am aprisoner of war on my parole and entitled to wear it. I served withCommodore Jones on the _Bon Homme Richard_, and was captured through myown imprudence when we made the Texel on our return from the cruise inwhich we captured the _Serapis_."

  At this a slight but marked change came over the officer, and after amoment he said, coldly:

  "You will pardon me for saying there is very great imprudence, and evendanger, in your wearing that uniform in England."

  "Perhaps so," replied Archy, quickly adopting the same reserved tone,"but it is as honorable as any uniform in the world, and I shallcontinue to wear it. I observe that English officers on their parole inFrance wear their uniform and are not molested."

  The officer passed on without speaking a word, and, courteouslyassisting the Quaker lady into the coach, stepped in after her, whileArchy climbed up on the box-seat. The steps were put up, the door bangedto, the guard winded his horn, the coachman cracked his whip, the fourhorses dashed forward, and with a lurch and a roar little inferior tothe _Thunderer's_ in a gale of wind, the Comet started upon its journey.

  The afternoon was dreary, and the wintry sun shone fitfully upon thevast moorlands through which the post-road, like a serpent, wound itsway. The wind was cutting, and Archy shivered in spite of his greatfurred cape. The dreariness of the landscape affected him, and, as hehad done many times since that unlucky day off the Texel, he felt sad atheart. He had left the _Thunderer_ with regret at Spithead on herarrival. He had been kindly treated, especially by Admiral Kempenfelt,and, although he had made no friend like Langton, he had found goodcomradeship in the gun-room of the _Thunderer_. Before sending himashore, Admiral Kempenfelt had talked with him kindly, and had advisedhim to go to his grandfather at Bellingham Castle and there await hisexchange. The Admiral had strong hopes that, under certain influences,Archy would return, as the Admiral called it, to his King and country;but he forbore to urge it, seeing in the boy a spirit that was quick toresent any fancied dishonor. He had supplied Archy liberally with money,saying to him at the time: "This will not be too much in case LordBellingham refuses to see you; for, mark you, my lad, you have a queercase for a grandfather, and what he will do only himself and GodAlmighty know, so you had better be prepared for emergencies. However, Ithink you can take care of yourself. Good-bye, and good luck to you!"

  Those were the last kind words Archy had heard. In London, being nowiser than any other harum-scarum midshipman who found his pockets full,for the first time, Master Archy had treated himself with greatliberality. The playhouses, several cock-fights, excursions by land andwater, and a showy outfit had consumed Archy's week in London andAdmiral Kempenfelt's money, except the one rouleau of gold, which heexhibited as if he had a bank vault full of them. The subject of hisfinances deeply engaged Archy's attention as the Comet plunged along thedreary road in the fast-gathering gloom. Occasionally they stopped totake up or let off passengers, but at the last stage--a small villagewhere they changed horses--Archy observed that they had exactly the samecomplement with which they had started--the officer, the student, thebagman, the Quakeress, and the pert young woman.

  As they dashed up to the door of a small and uninviting inn about dark,the landlord bustled out with a candle in his hand, and, addressing thecoachman in a loud voice meant for the passengers, began:

  "Have you heard the news? The coach returning by Barham Heath wasstopped last night about this time and every single shilling taken fromthe passengers. If the ladies and gentlemen feels squeamish about goingon to-night, I can give them good beds--excellent beds. The Bishop ofCarlisle slept here a week ago, and his lordship was pleased to say heslept well. And I have lately brewed. His lordship liked the brewexceedingly--"

  A shriek from the pert young woman interrupted this.

  "O-o-o-h!" she screamed. "One of them dreadful highwaymen! I understandas they frequently kisses the ladies besides robbing them. Pray, Mr.Landlord, did you hear as any of the ladies was kissed?"

  "Don't know, ma'am," replied the landlord, with a grin, "but if youmeets a highwayman, and axes him--"

  "None of your impudence, sir," tartly responded the young woman. "Mysister's husband is cousin to one of the aldermen at Carlisle, and ifyou don't behave yourself respectful to me I'll have your license tookaway!" At which landlord, passengers, postilions, and stable-boys unitedin laughing--the coachman only maintaining a stolid gravity.

  While the horses were being put to, the passengers went into thetap-room to warm themselves, all except Archy and the off
icer. Just asArchy was stretching his legs in a brisk walk before the tavern door, tohis surprise the officer stepped up to him.

  "Sir," said he, "I perceive that, like myself, you have pistols. Now,the instant I put my eyes on our coachman I thought I recognized a manwhom I had seen tried for robbery and acquitted at the Old Bailey forlack of evidence; and I am willing to credit him with being a rascal ofthe first water, and I should not be surprised if he proves it before weget to the end of our journey. We may have to look to our arms,perhaps."

  "Mine will be found in good order, sir," responded Archy, greatlypleased to be so addressed by a military man so much older than himself,and to whom he had felt a strong and instant attraction.

  "May I ask how far you are going?" inquired the officer.

  "To the village of Bellingham. My grandfather lives at the Castle."

  The two were standing in the light of a lantern hung from the tavernporch, and Archy saw a start of surprise on the officer's part. He wassilent for a moment or two, and, in spite of the habitualself-possession which was visibly a part of his nature, he did notrecover himself at once; and when he spoke Archy felt a change in thetone and manner of his new acquaintance.

  "All danger will be passed as soon as we reach Bellingham. Our youngOxford friend has a sword and the bagman a stout stick, but pistols arethe weapons against highway-robbers. I am glad you have yours--and keepyour eye on the coachman."

  "Don't you think, sir," said Archy, eagerly, "that we had better keepour pistols out of sight as far as possible? For if they see we arearmed they may not attack us."

  "My dear sir," answered the officer, petulantly, "you speak as if to beheld up by highwaymen was a privilege to be sought, not a danger to beavoided. I am afraid you are a hot-headed young man."

  "The fact is," was Archy's half-sheepish and half-triumphant reply, "Ilike to see life--and you know, sir, to be stopped on the road by adetermined Claude Duval kind of a fellow is rather er--"

  "Pleasant," sarcastically suggested the officer; "deuced pleasant. Ihave often observed of you youngsters that to tell you that a thing isdangerous is generally to put a premium on your doing it. And when it isfoolish, besides--zounds, there's no holding you back! But let me tellyou, Mr. Midshipman, when you have had my share of hard knocks you willbe a little more willing to keep out of them than you are now. For mypart, I hope this tattling landlord is lying, and this rascally coachmanhas turned honest man. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open."

  By that time the horses were put to, and the guard's horn summoned thepassengers to get in, and the Comet started off.

  The first few miles lay through the same flat, moorland country theyhad previously traversed, but presently they entered a straggling wood,with a hedge and ditch on both sides. It was now perfectly dark, exceptfor the moon occasionally struggling through the clouds. Within thecoach, the Oxonian, a waggish fellow, was amusing himself with tellingblood-curdling tales to the gentle Quakeress and the young woman, whichlast took refuge in groans and smelling salts, and vowed if she everreached Carlisle again she would never more trust herself on the road.The officer, who had been vexed by Archy's light-hearted seeking ofdanger, was still more annoyed by the young Oxonian's maliciousamusement, and he therefore turned courteously to the placid Quakeress,saying:

  "Pray do not be alarmed, madam; we can take perfectly good care ofourselves and of the ladies, too."

  "Friend," mildly answered the Quakeress, "I thank thee, and I am no morefrightened by the tales this young gentleman is telling than by theshadows that children make upon the wall to divert themselves, andsometimes to annoy their elders."

  The Oxonian took this rebuke in good part, while the bagman burst outwith:

  "I am glad the military gentleman thinks us safe; not that I be afeerd.I have travelled the roads of England for ten year with nothing for armsbut this stick with a loaded handle, and I believe it has frightened offmore robbers than any pair of pistols in England. You see, ladies andgentlemen," he continued, flourishing his stick under the officer'snose, to that gentleman's intense disgust, "it is all to nothing how youmeets robbers. Seeing a bold, determined feller like me--I have beentook for a officer, I have, many a time--they'll lose heart at the sightand screech out--oh, Lord! oh, Lord!"--for at that moment the coachstopped with a jerk, a dark figure rose up from the ground on the otherside of the coach, and the cold muzzle of a long horse-pistol was withinan inch of the bagman's nose, who instantly began to bawl for mercy atthe top of his lungs. At the same moment a man on horseback leaped thehedge, and, rushing at the coach, levelled another pistol at the guard'shead, who immediately tumbled off on the ground and threw up his hands.The robber, seeing there was no fight in the guard, while the coachmansat quite passive, promptly turned his attention to Archy. But asurprise was in store for him. The pistol was knocked from his hand andhe himself was looking down the muzzle of one--not so large but quiteas effective--in the hands of Archy Baskerville.

  "Dismount!" said Archy.

  The robber, with a rapid motion, threw himself from his horse on theside opposite to Archy, and, with a spring, tried to regain his pistol.But Archy, tumbling off the box, was too quick for him. He kicked thepistol into the ditch, and still covered the highwayman with his ownweapon. The horse in the meantime had broken away for a short distance,but, apparently well trained, stood in the half-darkness trembling inevery limb, but holding his ground. The highwayman, with a glance behindhim, made a dash for the horse and bounded into the saddle. Archy was athim in a moment, and as a shot rang out from the other side of thecoach, Archy fired straight at the highwayman at short range. But, closeas he was, he missed fire. He ran forward and fired again just as thehorse was rising to take the ditch, but the highwayman, bending down tohis horse's neck, took both hedge and ditch at a leap and disappeared inthe darkness.

  Chagrined and excited, Archy ran to the other door of the coach, where ascuffle was going on. The bagman lay on his back bellowing like a calf.The young woman added her shrieks to the uproar. The Quakeress sat inthe coach as calm as a summer evening, while the officer, the Oxonian,and the guard, who had come to his senses, were struggling with agigantic fellow, who seemed more than a match for all of them. Archy,however, coming up behind, laid hold of him, and in a few moments he wasdisarmed and his hands securely tied. The officer then turned hisattention to the coachman, who had sat unconcerned all through them?l?e.

  "You infernal scoundrel!" was the officer's first words to the coachman."I shall deliver you up along with this fellow for highway-robbery. Youare plainly in league with them and by far the worst of the lot, as youtook pains to save your own skin while assisting these men to rob andperhaps murder us."

  The coachman, trembling and stammering, attempted to defend himself; butthe officer cut him short by directing Archy to mount the box and keephis pistol ready. The Oxonian gave the bagman a kick.

  "Get up, you great calf! the danger's past, and you can now boast moreof the prowess of that stick of yours."

  The bagman very meekly scrambled up, but showed, when least expected, acapacity to make himself useful. The young woman had continued screamingin spite of the earnest assurances of all the passengers that the dangerwas over, and the obvious fact that only one highwayman remained, and hewas tied hand and foot.

  "Thee has nothing to fear, young woman," cried the Quakeress, leaningout of the coach.

  "Murder! murder!" was the answer yelled at the top of a pair of stoutlungs.

  "If it is disappointment, madam, that no attempt was made to kiss you--"began the Oxonian, with grave impertinence.

  "I'll shut her potato trap," suddenly remarked the bagman. And, seizingher by the back of her neck, he shouted in her ear:

  "Be quiet, hussy! You haven't no sister married to an alderman's cousinin Carlisle, and now I remembers I heerd you last month cryin''Eyesters' in Carlisle streets, and that's where you got that fine voiceo' yourn, and it's enough to wake the dead."

  The young woman responded by giving the b
agman a clip over the ear; butshe was effectually silenced, and climbed in the coach to theaccompaniment of a general smile, the bagman thrusting his tongue intohis cheek and winking all around.

  The coach now started, the coachman maintaining a frightened silence,and, after travelling a few miles more, reached the village ofBellingham, where the officer handed him and the captured robber over tothe constables. A crowd of people surrounded the coach, the bagman andthe young woman volubly describing the dangers through which they hadpassed, while the Oxonian, engaging a chaise, soon disappeared on hisway to his destination, and the Quakeress retired to her room at theinn. But the first to be out of the way were the officer and ArchyBaskerville. As soon as the constables had taken charge of theprisoners, the officer came up to Archy, and, pointing to a huge, dark,unlighted stone pile on a hill, set in the midst of a great park, saidto him, "Yonder is Bellingham Castle."

  Archy expected him to say something more, as in parting from the Oxonianhe had offered his card and expressed a wish to meet again, coupled witha handsome acknowledgment of the young student's courage; but apparentlythe officer thought he had said enough.

  "Thank you, sir," replied Archy, and then, with a forced smile, hesaid, "I am by no means sure of my reception. I may be going London-wardto-morrow morning."

  But the officer had turned away, and Archy, his usually light heart notso gay as he would have wished, struck out towards the park-gates, whichhe saw in the distance by the glimpses of a cloud-obscured moon.

  He trudged along in bitterness of spirit for a time; but before hegained the crest of the hill and entered the broad carriage-drive thatled to the great arched entrance his spirits had recovered themselves.After all, he was seeing life--a consolation which never failed toconsole him whenever he fell into adversity. He had almost persuadedhimself that it would be a serious disadvantage to be acknowledged byhis grandfather by the time he reached the door, when he pulled a hugebell that echoed and re-echoed through the great stone building. He wasdeeply engaged in examining, by the light of the emerging moon, thesquare towers at the corners, and the ancient windows, and all thepeculiarities of a castle half modern and half medi?val, when the greatdoor opened with a crunching and banging as if the hinges had not turnedfor a hundred years--and there, in the open doorway, illuminated by asingle candle, whose rays only revealed the vast cavern of the hallbeyond, stood the officer with whom Archy had just parted.

  "Come in, nephew," said he.