Lord Bellingham then began asking him questions about his life in America, and Archy, nothing loath, plunged into a description of it, telling of the abounding plenty of the colonists, his own pleasant boyhood on the Chesapeake, the splendors of the viceregal court at Williamsburg—these splendors did not become the less in the telling, and Archy was not without gifts as a story-teller.
Lord Bellingham listened with the deepest interest. The story of this new, free, fresh life beyond the seas was fascinating to the old man, reared in courts, and spending his later days in luxurious and eccentric solitude. And without in the least suspecting it, Archy was every moment growing in grace in his grandfather's eyes. Here was no hobbledehoy, but a handsome stripling, already with some knowledge of the world, fearless, frank, and quick of wit. Before either of them realized how time was flying, the shadows grew long, and Diggory, appearing at the door, announced his lordship's dinner.
"Request Colonel Baskerville to dine with me to-day. You, grandson, will remain."
As Archy had an idea that his grandfather's dinner was considerably better than what Diggory chose to provide for his uncle and himself in the little parlor, he agreed with alacrity, and in a few moments the three were sitting around a small round table glittering with plate, where an elaborate dinner was served.
Every moment that Archy passed with Colonel Baskerville he felt more and more drawn towards him. He had been through stirring scenes in India with Lord Clive and Warren Hastings, and when questioned by Lord Bellingham, he told of them so interestingly that all three forgot the hour, and they were interrupted by a message from the village asking them to come and give their testimony at the inquiry about the attempted robbery.
When they returned it was night, and there was no invitation to join Lord Bellingham at supper; but Diggory, acting under secret instructions, provided them with an excellent supper. Scarcely were they through when a request came from Lord Bellingham that Colonel Baskerville wait upon him in his own room. Archy, left alone, provided himself with a book from the library, and, mending the fire and trimming the candles, seated himself for a long and delightful evening of reading. But presently the book fell from his hand, and he began thinking over the rapid events of the last year, and then his mind turned towards Langton. So young, so brave—Archy thought he had never met a more gallant fellow—and so quiet withal—the favorite alike of officers and men. He began to wonder how, in their many long talks, nothing had ever revealed to each other their relationship. But he remembered that he instinctively avoided all mention of his family, a trait learned from his father, who had never even told him of any relations named Langton. And Langton's mother had probably, for the same melancholy reason, kept him in the dark also. While these thoughts were passing through his mind, hours slipped away. The candles were burned to their sockets when Colonel Baskerville appeared.
"I have spent the evening with my brother, talking about you," he said to Archy, seating himself. "You seem to have politely defied him, and thereby conquered him."
"If he thinks I mean to give up my country—" began Archy.
"Tush! You can do nothing until you are twenty-one. But I think I can promise you that nothing will be left undone to charm you with England, and with your place as Lord Bellingham's heir. He asked me about your clothes, and I explained about the uniform—ha! ha!"
Colonel Baskerville laughed outright at the recollection.