The fire burned itself out, the candles flickered in their sockets; midnight came, yet neither made any move towards going to bed. Archy felt a singular restlessness in spite of his misery—he felt in the attitude of one waiting for something to happen. At last it came, at one o'clock in the morning. Far up the stony street they heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs going at full gallop.
"It is an official messenger. He is stopping at the hôtel of the War Minister," said Archy, in an intense whisper; and the next minute he tore down the three flights of stairs of the tall house in which they lodged, unfastened a window in the entresol and jumped out, instead of waiting for the concierge to be waked up, and found himself speeding along the street, and Paul Jones, neither so young nor so active, not far behind him.
Windows were being opened, people were collecting hurriedly on the streets, and a little crowd already stood around the steaming horse from which the messenger had just alighted and had disappeared within the doors. In an upper window on the first floor of the splendid hôtel a light quickly appeared—the War Minister was receiving the news. The crowd below waited, some in breathless silence, others exclaiming and gesticulating in their excitement, and every moment the people increased in 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 voice was hushed.
"Good news—great news—from our allies in North America! On the 19th of October, at Yorktown, in Virginia, Lord Cornwallis, with all his force—guns, stores, and several vessels—surrendered to General George Washington, in command of the joint forces of America and France. Vive l'Amérique!"
Before the crowd could shout, a sudden, wild cry of joy went up from a young man and an older one who stood together, clasping each other, with tears running down their faces. The French might cheer and huzza in their triumph, as they did, waking up the entire quarter of Paris, and causing an outpouring of the whole population, but the patriotic joy of Paul Jones and Archy Baskerville was too deep for words. Theirs was a passionate 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!"
CHAPTER XVI
The surrender of Lord Cornwallis was admitted to be the practical end of the war. The English people, as a mass, rose up and declared that the strife must end. Parliament, it was known, would not vote another shilling for soldiers or ships for America. The Ministers gave up in despair, and even George III., the most obstinate king of which history makes any record, saw that he must yield.