On the evening of the third day Rupert joined him, and on the morrow he staggered out once more in the prince's company. Astonished as the Dutch had been at the reckless daring of Monk with his fleet of wrecks, they thought it impossible for him again to put to sea, and had gone back to Holland to refit. About eight o'clock they were sighted to windward, and at once fell into line and lay to to wait for the English. Monk was for attacking immediately. Up till now he had modestly given way to Rupert's greater nautical experience, but now the prince wanted to slacken sail to let the Blue division close up as it was far astern. Monk flew into a passion, but as even he could not call the daring prince a coward, he had reluctantly to admit that he was prudent. While the gay young Duke of Buckingham, who, not to be out of the fashion, had joined the fleet as a volunteer, was laughing to see Rupert for once in his life on the side of caution, the furious old general was caught quietly loading a little pocket-pistol. It was a curious weapon for a sea-fight, and Monk had been heard to say that whatever happened he did not mean to be taken. It could only be intended to blow up the ship as a last resource. "And therefore," says Buckingham, "Mr. Saville and I in a laughing way most mutinously resolved to throw him overboard in case we should ever find him going down to the powder-room." The action which ensued was indecisive, but the advantage on the four days was certainly with the Dutch. Still the old general would never admit it. He always maintained he had inflicted greater loss on De Ruyter than he had suffered himself. He did not dream he was beaten. He accused the greater part of his officers, certainly with some reason, of cowardice, and even of treachery. Not above twenty of them, he used to say, had behaved like men; and in unshaken contempt of his brave enemy he set to work desperately to refit and begin again more furious and confident than ever.