The Rock of the Lion

by Molly Elliot Seawell

It took several minutes for Archy to digest this. He was too staggered by what he had heard to make any further inquiries, but his quiet friend proved communicative enough.

"You're in the sick-bay of the Royal George, sir, and I'm the sick-bay nurse. It seems as how the officers thought as they'd git a good press at the York Assizes. We was layin' off the mouth of the Humber, waitin' for the rest o' the convoy from Ireland, and some o' the men deserted, though we had left Plymouth o' purpose, as soon as we got our complement, to keep the men aboard. But they got away in spite o' our keepin' a sharp lookout, and the officers, as I say, went to look after some others to fill their places. You took a hand in a scrimmage, sir, in a tavern, and the officers wanted to nab you just to git even with you; but that blow on the head was unexpected sharp. Just as you dropped they heard the constables coming. York ain't no seaport town, and the constables don't know enough to let a press-gang alone while it is mindin' its own business; so our men had to cut and run, and they brought you off with 'em, sir, thinkin' you'd peach on 'em if they left you behind. But they meant, as soon as daylight come, to leave you at some village on the road and let you make your way back to York, for they see you was a gentleman, sir. When daylight come, though, you was still layin' like a log, and they was right at the place where the boat was to meet 'em; and when they got down to the mouth o' the Humber there lay the Royal George with the bluepeter flying, so they just had to hustle you on board and turn you over to the surgeon, or else leave you to die on the shore. So they brought you off, and that's six days ago, and this is the first time, sir, you have opened your peepers since, and I must go and tell the surgeon."

Archy lay there alone for a few moments, feeling strangely weak. The reaction of his first awakening was upon him. Presently, a tall, raw-boned, red-headed surgeon entered, and introduced himself in a manner not unkind.

"I am Dr. MacBean—at your service, sir. Glad to see you so much better. You have had a close shave in more ways than one"—Archy put his hand to his head to find that every hair had been shaved off, and his head was as bare as a peeled onion—"but we have pulled you through. I suppose you remember the circumstances of your finding yourself with our men."

"I remember the fight with the press-gang, but I got a blow that stunned me, and don't recollect anything more."

"We saw that you were a gentleman, sir, as soon as you were brought aboard, and we regretted the anxiety your family and friends must feel on your account. No doubt Admiral Digby will take the first opportunity of acquainting them with your situation, and if we meet a ship homeward bound, you will be transferred."

"But England is not my home," explained Archy, in a troubled voice. "I am an American midshipman on parole. I was merely visiting my grandfather, Lord Bellingham, when I went to York—and—my name is Archibald Baskerville, and—" Archy stopped through weakness.

"There, there; you have talked enough," said Dr. MacBean, thinking his patient was off again into vagaries.

But when he went to report to the captain, who happened to be on deck conversing with the Admiral, he had reason to know that Archy was entirely sane in the account he had given of himself. Admiral Digby had heard of the young rebel, grandson of Lord Bellingham, and brought home by Admiral Kempenfelt in the Thunderer. He knew that Lord Bellingham's seat was in Yorkshire, and that, as Lord-lieutenant of the East Riding, he would be present at the York Assizes, and he had no doubt that Archy was just what he represented himself to be.