The Rock of the Lion

by Molly Elliot Seawell

"Perhaps I may see you in England myself. True, I believe there is a standing offer of ten thousand guineas for me, dead or alive; but did not Captain Cunningham, who also had a price upon him, take his vessel into an English port and refit? And I have had a fancy to see England ever since I was honored with so high a price upon my head."

A light broke in upon Archy's mind.

"I see! I see!" he cried. "Very well; all I can say is that if the people molest you there is Admiral Digby, at the Admiralty, who will defend you."

"But the people will not know that I am Paul Jones," significantly replied the Commodore. "I grant you, if I went in my proper character I should see only the inside of Newgate Prison; and as I wish a more extended view, I would do better not to tell my name and adventures. I say this to you: we shall meet again in England."

This started Archy off in high spirits, and he already began to plan concealing Paul Jones at Bellingham Castle. His cheerfulness lasted until he began to think of his "enemies" at Gibraltar. Were they still alive? There was no news from the Rock except that it still held out stubbornly, and that before Spain was forced by her allies to sign a peace she meant to make one last desperate and unprecedented effort to regain that mighty fortress.

However, nothing could damp his happiness at the splendid prospects of his country, and, elated with the idea, he easily persuaded himself that everything concerning everybody he loved would come right. This happy conviction, which was partly justified by circumstances and partly accounted for by youth and health and motion along a fine high-road on a bright morning, inspired him to raise his voice in song; but as he sang very badly, and the guard laughed at him, he concluded to try some other form of amusement.

He had the box-seat, and having a little gold still left in his belt he slyly insinuated a piece into the hand of the coachman, who, in return, passed him over the reins. But a few jolts and bumps, a growl from the postilion, and a sharp volley from the guard, together with a chorus of shrieks from several nervous old ladies inside, caused the coachman to resume his job hurriedly, much to Archy's chagrin. This was but a temporary damper, and he proved a very lively companion all the way to Calais.

They arrived in the afternoon, just at the turn of the tide, and with a favorable wind for the Channel Islands, where Archy meant to go. There was a guardship, he knew, stationed off the island of Jersey, and if he could get to her he knew there was constant communication with Spithead.

As soon as he got to Calais he at once reported to the authorities, who, on the strength of his safe-conduct, directed him where to find a boatman. He soon found one with a tolerably large boat, who agreed to take him for a moderate sum to the British guardship. The boatman was as anxious not to lose the wind as Archy, so in an incredibly short time they were off, and before midnight, by the light of a brilliant moon, they made the island of Jersey. As they sighted the guardship they hoisted for a flag of truce a sheet which Archy had bought at a Calais tavern. They were suffered to come alongside—a small sailboat with two men not being alarming.