The French fleet weighed anchor on the 19th of June, after a stay of ten days. The essential point now was not to fall in with the English. Nelson, having refitted at the islands of St. Pierre, had returned on June 1st to Toulon, but the French squadron had been gone twelve days. He had run from Toulon to the roads of Taglia-mon, and from the roads of Tagliamon to Naples, where he had arrived on June 20th, at the very moment when Bonaparte was leaving Malta. Learning that the French had been seen off Malta, he followed, determined to attack them, if he could overtake them. At one moment, the English squadron was only a few leagues distant from the immense French convoy, and neither party was aware of it. Nelson, supposing that the French were bound for Egypt, made sail for Alexandria, and arrived there before them; at not finding them, he flew to the Dardanelles to seek them there. By a singular fate, it was not till two days afterwards that the French expedition came in sight of Alexandria, on the 1st of July, which was very nearly six weeks since it sailed from Toulon. Bonaparte immediately sent on shore for the French consul. He learned that the English had made their appearance two days before, and, supposing them to be not far off, he resolved that very moment to attempt a landing. It was impossible to enter the harbour of Alexandria, for the place appeared disposed to defend itself; it became necessary, therefore, to land at some distance on the neighbouring coast, at an inlet called the Creek of the Marabou. The wind blew violently and the sea broke with fury over the reefs on the shore. It was near the close of the day, but Bonaparte gave the signal and resolved to go on shore immediately. He was the first to disembark, and, with great difficulty, four or five thousand men were landed in the course of the evening and the following night. Bonaparte resolved to march forthwith for Alexandria, in order to surprise the place and to prevent the Turks from making preparations for defence. The troops instantly commenced their march. Not a horse was yet landed: the staff of Bonaparte, and Caffarelli himself, notwithstanding his wooden leg, had to walk four or five leagues over the sands, and came at daybreak within sight of Alexandria.