Providentially it was at this moment that the ships of Renaud des Baux hove in sight of Naples, and speedily came to anchor in the port. Now it chanced that Maria of Durazzo with her two children had taken refuge from a possible sack of the city by the Hungarians in the Castel dell’ Uovo; that, as the reader will remember, stands upon a rock surrounded on three sides by the sea and connected with the mainland by a causeway on arches. Both Joan and Louis, being occupied in the town itself at the time of the fleet’s arrival, and supposing that Maria had already preceded them on board the flag-ship, remained at their posts until the last, encouraging their people and exhorting them to hold firm against the foe. But the Neapolitans, preferring surrender to possible annihilation, sent out a deputation to the King of Hungary to beg for terms; to the great anger and sorrow of their rightful sovereigns, who only now, when all seemed over, reluctantly sought the shelter of Des Baux’s vessels, off the Castel dell’ Uovo. Here, being now much pressed for time, they embarked on the nearest of the ships and, still in the belief that the Duchess of Durazzo was safe on board that of the Admiral, they gave the signal to depart and sailed out of the harbour, followed, as they imagined, by the rest of the fleet; for it was now drawing on to night, and too dark for them to see clearly what was taking place in rear of them. Not until they reached Gaeta, towards noon of the following day, after fighting their way through a dreadful storm, did they realize that the Admiral’s ship, with the Queen’s sister on board, was not with the rest of the squadron that now came toiling, ship by ship at long intervals, into the harbour. What had happened to it? Had it sunk, or been flung ashore by the waves during the night at some lonely spot upon that inhospitable coast? This was the agonizing question that Joan asked of herself and of Louis and of all about them. And none could answer her. Suddenly, as all hope of her ever again holding her sister in her arms seemed to be on the point of vanishing from before Joan’s eyes, a cry of joy broke from her where she was leaning upon the gunwale of the vessel, her gaze fixed upon the sea and the cloud-scuds to southward. Hastening to her side, Louis saw that a ship in difficulties, a considerable distance from them, was being driven, in spite of persistent “tacking,” towards them in the harbour of Gaeta. Thinking it must be the Admiral, Louis hoisted signals to him that he should join them; but, to his amazement, no attention was at first paid to his signals; by which I mean to say that Louis had flown the Royal Standard, and that the other only continued the more desperately to endeavour to keep out to sea.