Of course, the return voyage was "any thing but gay." When soldiers come home from the war, they march with a proud step, if they have had a victorious campaign. But it is otherwise when they come with a sad tale of disaster and defeat. Seldom had an expedition begun with higher hopes, or ended in more complete failure. Who could help feeling keenly this fresh disappointment? Even with all the courage "that may become a man," heightened by a natural buoyancy of spirits, how was it possible to resist the impression of the facts they had just witnessed? If--as Lord Carlisle had told them the year before--"there was almost enough of glory in the very design of an Atlantic telegraph," that glory might still be theirs. But apparently they could hope for nothing more. They had done all that men could do. But fate seemed against them; and who can fight against destiny? No one can blame them if they sometimes had sore misgivings, and looked out sadly upon the sea that had baffled their utmost skill, and now laughed their efforts to scorn. In this mood they entered once more the harbor of Queenstown. The Niagara was the first to arrive and to bring tidings of the great disaster. The Agamemnon came in a few days after. Knowing the fatal impression their report was likely to produce, Mr. Field hastened to London to meet the Directors. It was high time. The news had reached there before him, and had already produced its effect. Under its impression the Board was called together. It met in the same room where, six weeks before, it had discussed the prospects of the expedition with full confidence of success. Now it met, as a council of war is summoned after a terrible defeat, to decide whether to surrender or to try once more the chances of battle. When the Directors came together, the feeling--to call it by the mildest name--was one of extreme discouragement. They looked blankly in each other's faces. With some, the feeling was one almost of despair. Sir William Brown, of Liverpool, the first Chairman, wrote, advising them to sell the cable. Mr. Brooking, the Vice-Chairman, who had given more time to it than any other Director, when he saw that his colleagues were disposed to make still another trial, left the room, and the next day sent in his resignation, determined to take no further part in an undertaking which had been proved hopeless, and to persist in which seemed mere rashness and folly.