Demosthenes was quick to realise that the whole situation was hopeless; but Nicias lacked nerve to accept the responsibility of retiring, and also had some idea that affairs within Syracuse were favourable. His obstinacy gave Demosthenes and his colleague Eurymedon the impression that he was guided by secret information. And now it became the primary object of Gylippus and the Syracusans to keep the Athenians from retiring. Another naval defeat reduced the Athenians to despair; they resolved that they must cut their way out. The desperate attempt was made, but by almost hopeless men against an enemy now full of confidence. To the excited, almost agonised, watchers on shore, it seemed for a brief space that the ships might force a passage; the fight was a frenzied scuffle; but presently the terrible truth was realised--the Athenian ships were being driven ashore. The last hope of escape by sea was gone, for, though there were still ships enough, the sailors were too utterly demoralised to make the attempt. Hermocrates and Gylippus, sure that a retreat by land would not be tried, succeeded by a trick in detaining the Athenians till they had themselves sent out detachments to hold the roads. On the third day the Athenians began their retreat in unspeakable misery, amid the lamentations of the sick and wounded, whom they were forced to leave behind. For three days they struggled on, short of food and perpetually harassed, cut off from all communications. On the third day their passage was barred in a pass, and they found themselves in a trap. On the third night they attempted to break away by a different route, but the van and the rear lost touch. Overtaken by the Syracusans, Demosthenes attempted to fight a rearguard action, but in vain, and he was forced to surrender at discretion with his whole force. Next day, Nicias with the van was overtaken, and, after a ghastly scene of confusion and slaughter, the remnants of the vanguard were forced to surrender also. Nicias and Demosthenes were put to death; great numbers were seized as private spoil by their captors, the rest of the prisoners--more than 7,000--were confined for weeks under the most noisome conditions in the quarries, and finally the survivors were sold as slaves. So pitiably ended that once magnificent enterprise in the nineteenth year of the war. The terrific disaster filled every enemy of Athens with confident expectation of her immediate and utter ruin. Lacedæmonians anticipated an unqualified supremacy. At Athens there was a stubborn determination to prepare for a desperate stand; but half the islanders were intriguing for Lacedæmonian or Persian aid in breaking free, while Alcibiades became extremely busy.