"You will have to tell the story of the fighting," he said, "for the
Prince and myself have written but few lines; we have too many
matters on our minds to do scribe's work. They will have heard, ere
now, of the first two days' fighting, for some of the ships that were
sent back will have arrived at Harwich before this. By to-morrow
morning I hope to have the Fleet so far refitted as to be able to
follow you."
Five minutes later, the _Fan Fan_, with every stitch of sail set,
was on her way to the Thames. As a brisk wind was blowing, they
arrived in London twenty-four hours later, and at once proceeded to
the Admiralty, the despatches being addressed to the Duke of York.
They were immediately ushered in to him. Without a word he seized the
despatches, tore them open, and ran his eye down them.
"God be praised!" he exclaimed, when he finished them. "We had feared
even worse intelligence, and have been in a terrible state of anxiety
since yesterday, when we heard from Harwich that one of the ships had
come in with the news that more than half the Fleet was crippled or
destroyed, and that twenty-eight only remained capable of continuing
the battle. The only hope was that the White Squadron might arrive in
time, and it seems that it has done so. The account of our losses is
indeed a terrible one, but at least we have suffered no defeat, and
as the Dutch have retreated, they must have suffered well-nigh as
much as we have done. Come along with me at once, gentlemen; I must
go to the King to inform him of this great news, which is vastly
beyond what we could have hoped for.
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