Meanwhile the French admiral, who had with him twelve sail of the line and three frigates, had headed his pursuers, and as the British ships were leaving Gibraltar Bay had got as far as Cape Spartel, and had cleared the current which runs from the ocean into the Mediterranean. At ten at night he had his ships about him, though not in good order; for some of them were bad sailers, and were lagging behind his flagship _L’Océan_. Yet he believed that he could communicate his orders, or at least show the course he meant to follow. So he headed W.N.W., and then put out the guiding light of the flagship in order to conceal his route from the English frigates. The calculation that his own captains would see and understand, in the darkness and the excitement, was rash—and all the more because when he left Toulon it was understood that if the Straits were passed the fleet was to head for Cadiz, anchor there, and make another start. It was a foolish plan, because it invited another blockade. La Clue, therefore, was absolutely right in making for the open sea. But now was seen the influence of that miserable theory, that war can be waged effectually by hasty runs from one cover to another and by evasion. Five of the French line and all the frigates were at some distance from the flagship. When La Clue and the six vessels so close to him, that they had no shadow of excuse for not seeing what he was doing, steered to the W.N.W., the laggards acted on the supposition that the obvious course was to run for cover, and headed nearly due north for Cadiz. Thus all through the night the two sailed on diverging lines, and when day broke the French admiral found himself with seven sail only of his fifteen about him, and saw that five of his line and all his frigates had vanished in what direction he knew not, though he might well have guessed, under the horizon. At this moment the best course he could have followed might well have been to steer for Cadiz, whither it was probable that his lost vessels had gone, and where they were indeed waiting for him. The next best course might have been to keep on straight for Brest. But he remained where he was, looking about for the liners which had parted company. Some sail were seen on the horizon, and La Clue headed towards them in the hope that they were his friends. They turned out to be Swedish merchant-ships. Then other sails were seen behind, and for them also the Frenchman steered only to discover that they belonged to the fleet of Boscawen. Nothing now remained to be done but to flee for refuge, and in the circumstances the only cover La Clue had any chance of reaching was the neutral coast of Portugal, to the North.