Crowds could be seen gathered upon the quays, and upon every point of observation. A loud salvo was fired from the castle batteries, and from the ordnance placed on the walls and on the gates. Except the “Santissima Trinidada,” the Lord High Admiral’s ship, and that commanded by the Vice-Admiral of the Netherlands, all the other vessels now cast anchor. The three large vessels got as near the port as they could, and then came likewise to an anchor, the ship containing the Prince occupying the foremost position. These movements excited great interest amongst the spectators, whose shouts were loud and continuous.
Intimation having been given to the authorities of the town that the Prince’s disembarkation would not take place till next day, his Highness needing repose after his long voyage, no one went on board the royal ship. The ceremonial of the reception, and all public rejoicings and festivities connected with it, were postponed to the morrow; but it was not until it grew dusk, and they had in some measure satiated their curiosity by gazing at the superb vessel which had brought the illustrious stranger to their port, that the crowd on the quays began to disperse and return to their own dwellings.
It was at this hour that Philip called Osbert Clinton to his state cabin, and, dismissing his attendants, said to the young man, as soon as they were gone,—
“I intend to go ashore, incognito, to-night, and pass an hour in Southampton. I would judge with my own eyes of the people I shall have to govern. You shall go with me—I think I can trust myself with you.”
“I will guard your Highness with my life,” said Osbert, resolutely. “But I cannot conceal from you that it is a hazardous step you are about to take.”
“Hazardous or not, I am resolved upon it,” said Philip. “I like a nocturnal adventure, and the opportunity for one now offers, under circumstances that heighten its zest. My nobles would infallibly oppose my design, and therefore must know nothing of it. One person alone can be trusted, the Count D’Egmont, and he will lend me aid. I must about it at once, for it grows late.”
“Your Highness will be in time, for this will be a night of revel and rejoicing in the town,” said Osbert. “Pray Heaven no ill may come of the adventure!”
D’Egmont was then summoned, and on his appearance the Prince disclosed his plan to him. The Count strongly opposed it, representing its danger, as Osbert had done, but in the end he was obliged to yield.
“For an hour you and I will change parts,” pursued Philip to D’Egmont. “You shall be the Prince, and I the Count. The Count will remain here, and the Prince will go ashore with this young Englishman as if sent on some special errand. None will be the wiser—not even Alva or Ruy Gomez. Go, order a boat to be got ready instantly. Make some change in your attire. Put on the long dark mantle I have seen you wear at night, and a black cap without a plume. Speak to the attendants as you pass, and tell them you are going ashore.”
“It shall be done,” replied the Count, departing.