While the French admiral was crossing the Atlantic Darby had carried out the relief of Gibraltar. He saw the ships ordered to the East Indies safe on their way, and on the 11th April was off Cadiz. His look-out frigates counted thirty-six Spanish sail of the line at anchor in the port. They had grown foul while blockading the fortress, and had run out of stores. They were in fact “wanting in everything at the critical moment,” as Wellington was to find the Spanish armies at no distant day. Córdoba, their admiral, was a man of childlike faith and piety. When a French officer came to expostulate on the scandalous spectacle presented by a fleet of thirty-six sail which allowed a weaker force to relieve the fortress under its eyes, he left his cabin with his rosary in his hand. He listened to the carnal arguments of the Frenchman, and then replied with saintly unction, that it had pleased God to make the English stronger on the present occasion, but that he would doubtless give the superiority to the Spaniards in his own good time. He then went back to his prayers. Darby was allowed to carry his convoy into Gibraltar, and to despatch others to Mahon not yet besieged. He met no opposition from the Spaniards except from a few rowing gunboats, which fired at him from a respectful distance, when the breeze had fallen. On the 19th April he sailed for home—his work done. He swept close by Cadiz, “lifting his leg on the Spaniards” as Horace Walpole puts it, but they would not come out.