CHAPTER VI

THE ROCK OF GIBRALTAR


"This is better than lying on one's back in hospital, sir, and better
than dodging about in a close-packed transport."

The words came from George Fairburn, as with his officer, Lieutenant
Fieldsend, he stood surveying, from its northern vicinity, the
far-famed Rock of Gibraltar. It was the summer of 1704. His doings
since the day of his injuries in the dingle are soon recorded. After
months of sickness and a winter of inaction, his service under Lord
Galway had come to an end, much to his disgust at first. With others,
he had been sent on board a vessel and carried round the coast of
Spain to the neighbourhood of Barcelona, where Sir George Rooke was
operating. The new troops had arrived too late. The Admiral,
despairing of making any impression on the strongly-fortified
Barcelona, was about to sail for home. On the way the idea had come to
Sir George that the commanding fortress of Gibraltar would be worth
trying for. He had accordingly landed a number of troops on the narrow
isthmus of flat land that joins the rock and town of Gibraltar to the
mainland.

"Yes, Fairburn," the lieutenant replied, with a laugh, "my Lord Galway
foretold that you had work cut out for you. Here it is, I fancy, and
plenty of it."

It was a striking sight on which the two friends looked--for though
the one was but a private and the other a commissioned officer, yet by