should choose to run in past the demolished Island Battery
and attack the French fleet, first from a distance, with
the help of the Lighthouse and Royal Batteries, and then
hand-to-hand. So the French admiral, des Gouttes, agreed
to sink four of his largest vessels in the fairway. This,
however, still left a gap; so two more were sunk. The
passage was then mistakenly reported to be safely closed.
The crews, two thousand strong, were landed and camped
along the streets. This caused outspoken annoyance to
the army and to the inhabitants, who thought the crews
had not shown fight enough afloat, who consequently
thought them of little use ashore, who found them in the
way, and who feared they had come in without bringing a
proper contribution of provisions to the common stock.

The Arethuse was presently withdrawn from her perilous
berth next to the British left approach, as she was the
only frigate left which seemed to have a chance of running
the gauntlet of Boscawen's fleet. Her shot-holes were
carefully stopped; and on the night of July 14, she was
silently towed to the harbour mouth, whence she sailed
for France with dispatches from Drucour and des Gouttes.
The fog held dense, but the wind was light, and she could
hardly forge ahead under every stitch of canvas. All
round her the lights of the British fleet and convoy rose
and fell with the heaving rollers, like little embers
blurring through the mist. Yet Vauquelin took his dark
and silent way quite safely, in and out between them,
and reached France just after Louisbourg had fallen.