His depression was no way alleviated when the important letter was written and despatched. Having himself conveyed it to the postmaster, he proceeded in quest of Sir Walter Raleigh; but he found that that personage, as was recorded in a preceding chapter, had left home, and gone to join the fleet. He had, therefore, no means of dissipating his depression, but in looking forward to a time of action, and he waited his orders for service with the utmost impatience. Three days elapsed before the orders of the Admiral were conveyed to him. They simply directed him, on their receipt, to sail immediately for Portsmouth, and there muster his ship with the fleet. Having read them over, he made no stay in London, but forthwith proceeded to carry them into force. It was evening when he arrived at Leigh, but it had scarcely opened, and, therefore (for the season was summer), it was quite light. He found that, during his absence, everything had been arranged for the funeral of Inez, and he determined to have it performed without delay. His influence as captain of a man-of-war, and the fact that he was to sail that night, at the turn of the tide, to join the royal fleet, easily secured him the services of the parochial authorities; and in less than two hours after his arrival at Leigh, all things were prepared, both aboard and ashore, for the accomplishment of his wishes. It was yet quite light, when, responding to the boatswain’s whistle, the topmen of the “Eliza,” attired in their white frocks, mounted the rigging, and, preparatory to the appearance of the corpse, proceeded to man the ship’s yards. Two boats lay alongside, manned with picked crews; and the deck-men, also clad in their white frocks, were drawn up on the deck, from the after-hatch to the gangway. Just as these arrangements were effected, the coffin, supported by four petty-officers, and covered with a black pall, was brought on the deck, and carried past the deck-men, to the gangway. Hildebrand and Halyard, muffled in long cloaks, and having their hats bound with mourning-bands, followed mournfully in its wake. A salute of minute-guns was opened on the lower-deck as the coffin was lowered into the first boat. This announced its departure to the shore-people, and the solemn bell of the church, riding, like the spirit of Melancholy, on the evening breeze, was heard to invite its approach. A large concourse had gathered on the shore, on the patch of gravel before noticed, to view its debarkation, and watch its progress to the grave. When the boats stranded, however, they fell back; and suffered the coffin, and the mournful procession that attended it, and which comprehended Hildebrand and the two boats’ crews, to pass through the midst of them. Then, as by common consent, they formed in irregular order in its rear, and followed it up the hill to the churchyard.