"Sarved them Dutchmen right, sir."
CHAPTER XI
The spring of 1780 advanced, and the dauntless garrison on the Rock saw no prospect of relief, but every man, woman, and child of English birth only grew the more determined not to surrender. No complaints were heard from any of them, and those of the highest rank and most delicate nurture were the bravest where all were brave. Especially was this true of the women, and the spectacle of their patience and calm courage was inspiring to the men. The Spanish bombardment was not then the terrible thing it became afterwards, but it was sufficiently annoying, and many officers preferred, as Captain Curtis did, the safety of camping out for their families to the dangers of the barracks, which were often bombarded in the night-time. The town, too, had become sickly, and the higher and purer air of the rocks was better than the close quarters of the narrow streets and rickety houses, half wrecked by the bombardment, which were hot-beds of disease. Their supplies were still plentiful, such as they were; but in those days only a few coarse sorts of provisions could be kept for any length of time, and the besieged people had to live on salt beef, hard biscuit, beans, and the few small and inferior fish they could catch. The hard fare told sadly on most of those who had to endure it, but Archy Baskerville positively throve on it, and grew taller and broader and ruddier every day.
Some weeks passed before the return of Don Martin de Soltomayer, the Spanish Commander-in-Chief, and before Archy could take any steps towards passing through the Spanish lines. In that time Langton grew much better, and was able to walk about, although still pale and weak. Archy took the most devoted care of him, and found also plenty of time to do many small services for Mrs. Curtis, who learned to love him; and as for Dolly, she soon came to think him almost as agreeable a person as Judkins, and her heart was quite won when, once she was a little ill, Archy sneaked out at night and surreptitiously milked the one old cow still left the garrison, and which was especially reserved for the sick. Mrs. Curtis reproved him for it, but her reproaches sat lightly on Archy—by which it will be seen that he was far from a perfect young man.
He was also an expert fisherman, and spent a good deal of his time on the sea-shore, from whence he would bring nearly every day a few miserable fish, which were esteemed the greatest delicacy by Mrs. Curtis, to whom Archy always gave them. Musa, the Moor, was generally hanging about the shore, engaged in the same employment. He was silent and uncommunicative by nature, but Archy's irrepressible cordiality and affability were such that he would have been on good terms eventually with an ogre, so that after a little while a sort of friendship came to subsist between them. At long intervals Musa would disappear for several days at a time, and Archy knew well enough that this time was spent in expeditions to the African coast. Sometimes Musa would succeed in getting across the Straits, and sometimes, after watching his chance for days, he would be unable to elude the Spanish cruisers, and would return to Gibraltar.
In the latter part of March the Spanish Commander-in-Chief came back, and Archy, without any trouble, got permission to go with a flag of truce to the Spanish headquarters. Langton, who was still far from well, was extremely anxious to go with him to the Spanish camp, and, as Archy had permission to take one companion, he yielded to Langton's importunities and agreed to let him go.
"Although I know I shall have to lug you back up these rocks; you will never be able to get back alone, as weak as you are," he added; at which Judkins, who was standing by, touched his cap respectfully, and said: