Smarting under the disgrace, we obeyed, firing as we went. Scarce thirty English ships remained out of the fifty-four that commenced the fight. Keeping close together, and yawing from time to time in order to deliver a broadside at our pursuers, we held doggedly on our course, till at length a flat calm set in, and both fleets lay inactive at a mile apart, in which situation darkness again overtook us. Through sheer exhaustion our men were unable to execute even the smallest, necessary repairs, and throughout the short summer’s night they slept heavily at their posts. As daylight dawned upon the third day of the fight we continued our retreat, and as a faint southerly wind sprang up the enemy drew near with the intention of renewing the fight, concentrating their efforts on Albemarle’s ship, which, covering the retreat, presented an undaunted spectacle to our relentless foes. The _Prince Royal_ was next in line ahead, and so close were we that one of Albemarle’s officers hailed us to the effect that the admiral had expressed his intention of firing the magazines should things come to the worst. Shortly after midday a loud shout rose from the Dutch ships, and their rigging was alive with men gazing southward and frantically waving their arms. "Send a man aloft there," ordered Sir George Ascue, his face crimson with excitement, "and see what those beggars are clamouring over." The command was obeyed with alacrity, and several of our vessels also sent a seaman to the masthead on a similar errand. "Sail, ho!" sang out the lookout. "There’s a fleet hull down to the south’ard." "Heaven grant ’tis Rupert’s squadron!" ejaculated our captain; "though methinks by their noise those scurvy Dutchmen are sure ’tis de Beaufort." A few hours would decide whether the English ships would be hopelessly trapped betwixt the two fleets, or whether Prince Rupert’s vessels would arrive to turn a retreat into a decisive victory. The suspense was far more trying than the heat of the engagement had been, but about six o’clock Albemarle hoisted a signal that decided the matter. It was: "Fleet turn four points to the south’ard to effect junction with Prince Rupert." Eagerly was the manoeuvre executed, and our shattered fleet bore up to meet our welcome reinforcements; but at this juncture an accident occurred that, as far as we were concerned, threw us into the direst misfortune. The _Prince Royal_, on the new course, was the leemost vessel, and to bring her more into line the master sailed her more off the wind than the rest. Suddenly a heavy thud shook us from stem to stern, and our damaged mizzen mast went by the board. Shouts and execrations arose, and all was confusion; we were hard and fast aground on the Galloper Sands, while we had the mortification of seeing the rest of the fleet stand off and leave us to our fate.