The captain of the _Fleuron_--who by this time had learned that his prisoner, though only captain of a privateer, was worthy of respect--discoursed to Walker in some bitterness on this subject, and added: "It is seldom any great accident happens from single causes, but by a chain or series of things; thus, if we be here overcome, our loss will be owing to the waspishness of a single frigate, which would not cease fighting so long as it had a sting in its tail"--a remark which, if somewhat bitter, was appreciative. The English squadron gained steadily, and the French officer in charge of the _Mars_ put his helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw off one of the ships after him; in which he was successful, the _Captain_, a 70-gun ship, giving chase, and eventually recapturing the _Mars_. The other three ships were the _Hampton Court_, 70 guns, and the _Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_, each of 60 guns. The _Sunderland_ lost a spar, and dropped astern, but the other two were nearly alongside the French ships by sunset, the _Dreadnought_, a poor sailer, being somewhat astern. The French captain thereupon, seeing an action inevitable, politely requested Walker and his officers to go below. "Sir," said Walker, "I go off with great pleasure on the occasion, as I am now certain of my liberty; and I hope to have the satisfaction of seeing you again in being." He was not destined, however, to regain his liberty so easily, for these naval captains, what with faulty tactics and absolute want of zeal and enterprise, entirely bungled the whole business, and permitted the French ships to escape, treasure and all. The _Captain_ was commanded by Captain Thomas Griffin, senior officer of the squadron, who detached himself to chase the _Mars_, and gave, as an excuse, when he was tried by court-martial, that he thought the _Mars_ was the only man-of-war, and the two larger vessels her convoy. The court apparently accepted this flimsy story--although the _Captain_ was nearer than the other ships, and no one else had any such notion--but the Service generally did not. Captain Savage Mostyn, of the _Hampton Court_, hung about the French ships without firing a shot, waiting for the _Dreadnought_ to come up, instead of endeavouring to disable them aloft; and he also cut an extremely sorry figure at the court-martial; but his lame and almost incredible excuses were accepted. He was acquitted, and said to have "done his duty as an experienced good officer, and as a man of courage and conduct." There seemed to be a determination to let off everybody just then; but the public did not let off Mostyn, for when he sailed from Portsmouth a year later, still in command of the _Hampton Court_, it was to the cry of "All's well! There's no Frenchman in the way!"