As Philip's ships
were all snug in port, and could well remain there as long as Drake's
stores allowed him to keep the sea, it was a complete triumph for Spain.
But when the messenger dashed into Plymouth with the fatal packet he
found the roadstead empty. Drake was gone.
In vain at the last moment a number of his sailors had been induced to
desert; he had filled their places with soldiers. In vain a swift
pinnace was despatched in pursuit; Drake had taken care no orders should
catch him, and, with his squadron increased by two warships from Lyme,
was already off Finisterre, battling with a gale which drove the pinnace
home. For seven days it raged and forced the fleet far out to sea. Still
Drake held on in its teeth, and so well had he his ships in hand that on
the 16th, within twenty-four hours after the gale had blown itself out,
the whole fleet in perfect order was sailing gayly eastward past Cape
St. Vincent.
Eastward--for he had intelligence that Cadiz harbor was full of
transports and store-ships, and on the afternoon of the 19th, as he
entered the bay, he saw a forest of masts in the road behind the city. A
council of war was summoned at once, and without asking their opinion he
quietly told them he was going to attack. It was his usual manner of
holding a council, but it took Borough's breath away.
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