The siege proceeded determinedly, and every day the blockade grew stricter, and the garrison was hemmed in more closely both by land and sea. No naval expedition had been organized against the little British squadron that lay under the guns of the fortress, but it was scarcely thought probable that Admiral Barcelo, with his blockading fleet, which stretched the length of the Straits, would not attack it. Admiral Duff, who commanded the little British squadron of five ships, only one of which carried sixty guns, fully expected it, and made ready for it. Captain Curtis's ship, the Enterprise, of twenty-eight guns, being short of officers, Langton was formally assigned to her as soon as he was fully recovered. This left Archy alone in their hut on Europa Point. He had ostensibly nothing to do; but there are few occasions on which a kind heart, an active brain, and good legs and arms cannot find some useful work, and he found it in many ways. The officers and men were so vigilant, night and day, at the guns, erecting new batteries, repairing old ones, shifting guns from a good position to a better, that they could give but little attention to the women and children. There was always plenty for them to do, and Archy, who at home in America had been accustomed to being waited on every moment by black servants, now very cheerfully did for others what he had been used to having done for him. Whenever there was a distribution of supplies he was always on hand to help the weak, the sick, and the old with their precious burdens.

Every night before turning in Captain Curtis would show a light from his cabin window, which meant to his anxious wife on the Rock that all was well, and in reply a lantern would be flashed to him from the little hut on Europa.

One night in the early part of June, 1780, Archy was walking back to the hut, after showing the light, when he saw Musa standing in the pathway. The night was dark and rainy, and a Levanter—that wind which brings cold and misery and illness—was blowing fiercely. Musa touched him on the arm, and spoke in perfectly good English:

"Good-evening, Excellency."

"Good-evening, Musa. What are you doing up here this time of night?"

"I came to see his Excellency, Captain Curtis. I thought I could read the lights on the ship, and that he was ashore, but he is on his ship. I am going to him now."

"Is there to be a night attack?"

"How should I know, Excellency?" answered Musa, who could keep his own counsel.

Archy went back to the hut, left the lantern, and said, cheerfully, to Mrs. Curtis:

"I think I shall go down to the mole and ask Captain Curtis if I may stay aboard ship with Langton," which was a very usual thing for him to do.

Archy walked fast down the hill, for it was nearly nine o'clock, after which no one was permitted to pass the sentries except by giving the countersign. He reached the new mole just as the slight commotion of relieving the guard was heard. The Enterprise was anchored no great distance from the mole, in advance of the other four small vessels of the squadron near by, and the last boat was just putting off. Langton was in it, and Musa also, and in response to Langton's cordial invitation Archy jumped aboard.

Arrived at the ship, they found Captain Curtis taking a walk on the quarter-deck before turning in. Langton asked permission for Archy to remain on board all night, which Captain Curtis at once granted, and then turned to speak to Musa, who evidently had something to communicate.

Archy followed Langton below, to a little cabin which had been given him, not on account of his rank, but because of the lack of the full number of officers on the ship. As soon as they were alone, Archy said, significantly:

"I think that Arab fellow suspects an attack is to be made to-night."

"Very likely. If Captain Curtis had been Admiral Barcelo he would have burned or scuttled us long ago."

"I shall sleep on the floor here, if you don't mind."

"Do you expect me to give you my bunk?"

"If I wanted it I'd throw you out, but as you are a little boy, and the grandson of a lord, you may keep it."

"I wonder what our respected grandfather would say if he had to sleep in a hole like this?"

"He would say a whole dictionaryful, and smash everything he could lay his hands on besides."

"Pleasant old person, he must be."

"We will make a visit to Bellingham Castle together when the war is over—when we have walloped you, and when I am a post-captain in the American navy, and you are still a midshipman in the steerage."

At which Langton, now quite as strong as Archy, kicked at him, and the two immediately engaged in a friendly and noiseless scuffle, for Captain Curtis was a strict disciplinarian, and kept an orderly ship.

Just as Langton had succeeded in getting Archy down, and had planted his knee firmly on that young gentleman's broad chest, the cabin door accidentally swung open, and there was Captain Curtis passing by. Both young fellows jumped as if they were shot. Captain Curtis said nothing, but his look of inquiry was answered by Archy's saying:

"Mr. Langton and I were having a friendly tussle over—what was it, Lanky? Our grandfather, or the war?"

"The war," replied Langton, smiling.

"You may have a tussle of another sort to-night," said Captain Curtis, coolly. "There is a prospect of an attack on us before morning. If you wish to go ashore," he continued, turning to Archy, "I can send you in my gig."

Now the idea of being on shore when anything was going on aboard ship was harrowing to Archy, and he made haste to protest.

"I have no objections to your staying," said Captain Curtis. "I think an attempt will be made to burn the ship, and every able-bodied man who can handle a bucket will be welcome. You will not, of course, be called upon to do any fighting, but you must provide yourself with a cutlass and a brace of pistols to defend yourself in case the Spaniards should board us—for in the mÊlÉe they will not stop to inquire your nationality. Good-night," and Captain Curtis passed on.

Langton went out and called the master-at-arms, who produced a cutlass and a pair of navy pistols, and Archy, placing them under his pillow, rolled himself in a blanket on the floor and meant to go fast asleep. But he could not. The wind rose and the ship began to roll. Neither could Langton sleep; so they spent the hours in talking in whispers, chiefly about their family concerns, and each anticipating, after the fashion of the young and hopeful, that their whole lives were to be ordered exactly as they wished. Archy even predicted that Langton would distinguish himself so much that he would be offered a peerage, and then his grandfather, in default of other heirs, would have him made Lord Bellingham, of Bellingham Castle. Langton, who was of a cooler nature than Archy, laughed at this, but admitted that he would not mind being Lord Bellingham's heir, and would do the handsome thing by Archy, by his mother, his sisters—everybody.

Midnight came and went, and just as two bells were striking they heard a hail on the opposite side of the ship. The reply came back immediately:

"This is the Hind, provision-ship, from England."

"But that is no English voice that says so," were Langton's words to Archy as they both rose, and, taking their arms, stepped out into the gangway.

They heard the officer of the deck shout "Keep off!" and the next minute every crack and cranny of the ship was illuminated with an unearthly red light. Langton rushed up on deck, followed by Archy.

Within half a cable's length of them was a fire-ship, with six others following in a compact semicircle. The decks were glowing redly with the combustibles that were already lighted to throw aboard the Enterprise, and the few men who were to fire the ship were dashing the burning fuses at her; but they fell short, and dropped harmlessly in the black water. Captain Curtis had already ordered the boats to be lowered away, and this was done with the utmost steadiness and quickness. When Langton stepped into his boat, Archy involuntarily, and without asking himself why he did so, followed him. No one ordered him back—in fact, no one thought of him. All were engrossed, as he was, in the terrible work before them of grappling and destroying the fire-ships, which the wind was driving on to the Enterprise and her consorts. With a yell, the Spaniards on each of the fire-ships dropped into the boats they were towing astern, and, taking to their oars, made off rapidly in the darkness of the night.

Every ship in the British squadron was awake and alive then, and their boats had taken the water. The Enterprise, though, being the farthest out, seemed to be the target for which all the fire-ships were aiming; and, borne by wind and tide, they were drifting frightfully fast upon her. Her boats, however, managed, in the most seaman-like manner, to intercept them, and grappled with them, while the combustibles on their decks were blazing, the flames were running up their rigging, and the tremendous explosions of powder crashed out and made the solid rock to shake. The boats, in danger of being swamped every moment, of being blown skyward, and of being engulfed in fire, yet did their duty manfully. Langton's boat, with another one, made fast to the foremost fire-ship, and the men, bending to their oars with a will, towed it blazing and exploding to the rocks, where it was run ashore, and the boat made off just as one last crash blew the burning hulk to pieces.

The garrison took the alarm, and a furious cannonade from a hundred guns burst upon the night. The scene was awful beyond description. The very Rock itself seemed to blaze with light from its batteries, while the red glare from the burning vessels cast a vivid, unearthly brightness upon sea and shore and ships. In the midst of it, two large Spanish frigates were seen to emerge from the darkness, as it were, into the circle of fire, and steer straight for the little Enterprise. The batteries on shore instantly directed all their fire towards the two ships, and that, with the smart broadside from the ship, and the shells that were dropping everywhere, forced them to withdraw.

For two hours the fight with the fire-ships continued, but at the end of that time they were all driven ashore, and lay in wrecked and smouldering masses on the rocks.

Archy scarcely remembered what part he had in the affair, except that he sat in the stern-sheets with Langton and helped to handle the grappling-irons while the men pulled; but when it was all over, and, smoke-begrimed and weary, they clambered over the side of the ship, Captain Curtis met them, and, grasping Langton's hand, said:

"I never saw a boat better handled in my life—and you, Mr. Baskerville, did your part well."

That was praise enough for Langton and Archy.

It was nearly four o'clock before they were ready to turn in, and dawn was beginning to appear. The town had been thoroughly alarmed, and crowds ran down to the mole as soon as the danger was over.

Archy recognized Judkins's stalwart figure in the dim light as he trotted down the hill, trundling the identical wheelbarrow which had been Langton's coach on a former occasion. As soon as he reached the shore he began to fill his wheelbarrow with floating pieces of the wreck for fire-wood, which was very scarce.

Judkins was a thrifty soul, and before anybody had time to draw a long breath, after the dangers they had escaped, he was looking out for the comfort of Mrs. Curtis and Dolly in the matter of fuel.

At four o'clock Langton had to take his watch, and, on going below a few minutes beforehand, he found Archy snugly tucked in his berth and sleeping like a baby, after his night of excitement.

The failure of this attack apparently discouraged the Spaniards, and as the summer progressed they seemed to rely more upon starving the garrison out than upon a direct attack with their present means. They therefore confined themselves to a strict blockade by night and day, and devoted all their energies to making new and tremendous fortifications on the isthmus, upon which they mounted great numbers of heavy guns, provided with vast magazines of ammunition. This last was very injudicious, as it turned out. General Eliot, observing all they did, purposely let them carry the work, during the summer and autumn, to a certain point, disturbing them little; but he had a deep and far-reaching scheme in regard to this. He had determined upon a sortie, and on the evening of the 26th of November, after gun-fire and the closing of the gates for the night, the orders were given. Everything had been arranged beforehand, but only two or three officers besides General Eliot knew of the plan, as the utmost secrecy was essential.

As most of the regular garrison was necessary to remain in charge of the fortress, the attacking body of two thousand men was made up largely of the sailors and marines from the squadron in the harbor. Captain Curtis was to be in command of the left column, and Langton was one of the young officers to be under him.

The men for the sortie were to assemble without beat of the drum about three o'clock in the morning, when the moon would be gone down; but they were notified at nine o'clock the night before. There was no suspicion of anything unusual in the air until, at half-past nine o'clock that night, Captain Curtis and Langton were seen coming up the path towards the hut, and the little group assembled there knew in a moment that something unlooked for had happened.

Mrs. Curtis and Archy were sitting within the rude shelter, while outside, in the full radiance of a brilliant moon that lighted the heavens with glory, sat Dolly, wrapped up in a huge old boat-cloak of her father's, with Judkins by her. The two had been singing, and, as Judkins's bashfulness forbade him to sing in the presence of Mrs. Curtis, the two had retired, according to custom, to a nook in the rock, whence they could be heard but not seen.

"Now, Judkins," Dolly was saying, "we only have time to sing the evening hymn before I must go to bed. I always think of papa on his ship when I sing it, and wish he were here to listen to it."

"True for you, Miss Dolly," answered Judkins, gravely. "It's 'opin' I am that my honored cap'n may be with his little girl more than he is now—when them bloody Spaniards leaves off tryin' to beat us off our own ground, and goes 'ome and minds their business as they ought to."

And then their voices rose in sweetness—Judkins's rich barytone and Dolly's bird-like soprano; and they had two reverent hearers in Captain Curtis and Langton, who stopped a little distance off and listened, with bared heads, to this sweet and simple hymn.

"Why, there's papa now—and Mr. Langton too!" screamed Dolly, and, according to custom, she flew towards her father and swung around him.

Mrs. Curtis forbore to ask any questions until Dolly was gone, after a specially affectionate good-night from her father; and when she was out of the way, Captain Curtis said but one word:

"Sortie."

But that one word meant volumes. Archy had never ceased to admire and respect the fortitude of the women in all the dreadful events that he had seen of the siege, and he admired it more than ever when he observed the calm courage with which Mrs. Curtis received this announcement. There was danger in the attempt—extreme danger; but instead of weakly bewailing it, and distressing Captain Curtis by her fears, Mrs. Curtis showed a gentle self-control and a desire that Captain Curtis should have an opportunity to serve his country still further which was nobly inspiring.

Their time was short, and in a few minutes Captain Curtis and Langton were on their way back. Archy and Judkins were with them. As they walked along Archy was considering anxiously how he could manage to go along with the attacking column and yet observe his character as a prisoner of war.

Besides his natural and indomitable love of adventure, life on the Rock was a drearily monotonous business, and any break in it would have been eagerly sought by a young man of less daring disposition than Archy Baskerville. But—a non-combatant—he was turning over in his mind what device he could hit upon on which to base his request, when Judkins showed him the way.

"If you please, sir," said Judkins to Captain Curtis, "maybe the likes o' me ought not to ax it, but there will be some poor wounded men lyin' in the trenches and ditches after this here sortie, and I'd be monstrous glad, sir, if you could let me go out, sir, in the rear, sir, along with the men from the 'orspital, to help fetch them poor souls back, when they can't get back of themselves, sir."

"Very well," replied Captain Curtis, "I think you can be useful, and I will mention it to the Commander-in-Chief."

"And I, sir," said Archy, in a wheedling voice. "You'll hardly do it for Judkins and refuse me? I assure you, sir, I will not go one step beyond where I am ordered; and you see, sir, what a strong fellow I am. Judkins and I could manage a stretcher famously between us—couldn't we, Judkins?"

"Lord! yes, sir," was Judkins's answer, with a broad grin of approbation.

And so, at three o'clock of a dark morning, when the column moved out in death-like silence, behind them marched the hospital corps, and with that corps were Archy Baskerville and old Judkins.