The wind, though somewhat light, was favourable; and as the tide turned, and the ship was cast off from her buoy, the sails soon spread out, and carried her on gallantly. It was morning, however, before she cleared the river, and three days had elapsed when she came off the Start. There, agreeably to the Lord Admiral’s injunction, Hildebrand opened the packet which contained his orders. By these he was directed, in the first place, to sail for the Mediterranean, and endeavour to ascertain the precise force and organization of the Spanish Armada. Should he be unable to ascertain this information in that quarter, he was to exercise his own judgment, though circumspectly, as to where else he should seek it; but, at any hazard, he was to leave nothing undone that could lead to its acquisition.
He sailed for the Mediterranean direct. The wind, however, occasionally varied, and, after he had cleared the channel, was not decidedly in his favour the whole voyage. Upwards of three weeks elapsed, therefore, before he arrived at the Straits. There the wind took a turn, and carried him on, with occasional lulls, till he came in sight of Cape de Gatte. What wind ever doubled that point? As the good ship “Eliza,” with her crew full of hope, expecting to sustain no impediment, made it her landmark, the wind suddenly lulled, and left them off the eternal Cape becalmed. There they lay for three whole weeks, broiling in the sun, and rolling in sickening agitation on the long, swollen sea.
But the wind came, at last--a scorching sirocco. Away scudded the ship, like a water-witch, and, in a fortnight’s time, arrived off the Bay of Naples. Mounting the Danish flag, Hildebrand ventured, though against the advice of Master Halyard, to enter the bay, and there come to an anchor. But though it was one of the chief ports of the Spanish empire, he saw nothing in the bay, as far as his observation could push itself, in the shape of warlike preparation. After several days’ interval, finding that he was not noticed by the authorities, and, furthermore, that he could gain no information without some greater risk, he determined to hazard a visit to the shore, and seek for information among the disaffected natives. Accordingly, one night, when it came on very dark, he manned his boat with a picked crew, and set out for a neighbouring fishing village. He found the inhabitants more favourable to his design than he had even expected. Without incurring much risk, he learned, in answer to his inquiries, that the Neapolitan division of the armada had sailed for Lisbon, and that the Tagus was to be the rendezvous of the whole force. Satisfied that he could learn nothing further, he instantly returned to his ship; and resolved, if possible, to slip out of the harbour, and take a cruize off the Tagus. The night was dark; the wind was as fair as could be wished; and the proverbial indolence of the Spanish authorities, which no emergency could induce them to discard, made him hopeful that he would be able to get away unmolested. His expectations were realised, and he cleared the harbour without difficulty.