"Very well," said the surgeon, dryly, in his broad Scotch accent. "I have always said that the only way to kill a midshipman is to cut off his head and throw the head away; otherwise he will come to life, sure. There is a young man on board now who was shipwrecked, had an arm and three ribs broken, survived a Spanish doctor, and is apparently as good as new. You two must be first cousins."
Dr. MacBean did not know he was a prophet. When the doctor left him Archy got up quietly, and, dressing himself as fast as he could, made for the deck. He found himself weaker than he expected, and as he reached the top of the main-hatch he sat down awhile to rest himself. It was a sunny afternoon, mild for the season, and the vast deck of the great ship of the line was alive with men as she ploughed her way majestically over the waters. As far as the eye could reach the sea was flecked with sails. The "dratted convoy," as the sick-bay nurse called it, consisted of a great number of store-ships containing relief for the starving but indomitable garrison at Gibraltar, under General Sir George Eliot. A huge fleet, under Sir George Rodney, escorted it, and the men-of-war, compelled to carry reduced sail, so as to keep up with the slow supply-ships, were formed in double column in the rear of the convoy. The Royal George led the left wing.
Presently, in the bright afternoon, they saw a ship approaching them on the opposite tack. The Royal George was in advance of the rest of the squadron, and as the stranger neared them it was plain, from the squareness of her rig, that she was a ship of war and she flew the Union Jack. When she was nearly abeam of the Royal George she kept her topsails shaking and broke out a signal flag. The first lieutenant, who was on the bridge, then called out to a young officer who was running up the ladder:
"Mr. Langton, stand by for signals!"
Every eye was fixed on the advancing ship except Archy's. The name, called out in the lieutenant's clear voice, had thrilled him, and when he looked up there was Langton, risen from the dead, as it were, standing in full sight and hearing of him—Langton, whom he had seen drowned before his eyes, as he thought.
The shock and surprise of it, in his weak state, stunned Archy. His brain reeled, he instinctively threw out his arms to keep from falling over, and for a few minutes lay, rather than sat, on the step of the companion-way, only half conscious of his surroundings. But joy is exhilarating, and suddenly a great wave of life and happiness seemed to flow upon him. Not only was he deeply attached to Langton, but the joy that would be given to so many persons—to Langton's heartbroken mother and sisters, to Lord Bellingham, to Colonel Baskerville—when they knew that he was alive, was like the breath of life.
After the first few moments Archy became preternaturally alert to what was going on. The two ships moving slowly, all the signals of the new-comer could be easily read, and in the perfect silence, the wind being in the right direction, every word that Langton uttered as he spoke to the Admiral and captain could be heard.
"The garrison at Gibraltar is in a very critical state. The Spaniards have besieged it hotly since the 12th of September. The Rock is impregnable, but the garrison is near starvation. It has heard of the relief on the way, but if it does not come soon it will be too late."
The stranger then signalled "Good-bye," filled her sails, and proceeded on her way. On board the Royal George the painful impression made by the news they had just heard was obvious. The officers collected in groups about the quarter-deck, while forward the men talked over what they had seen, as several of them could make a shift to read the signals.
In a few moments Langton came stepping briskly and gracefully along the deck amidships. As he approached Archy rose to his feet and steadied himself. When they were not more than a yard apart their eyes met.