sued orders that every effort should be made to prepare the fleet
for another battle on the morrow.

Not a man or boy able to work turned in that night, for all were
employed in stopping shot holes, knotting and splicing rigging, bending
new sails, and repairing the tackles of the guns.

The survivors of the crew of the _Sampson_ came on board the _Triumph_
to assist, but even the united crews scarcely made up the ship's
complement.

As daylight broke, a light breeze enabled us to make sail, and followed
by the whole fleet, the _Triumph_ stood for the enemy, who were steering
under all sail to the eastward. Soon afterwards we saw ahead a ship
floating which we made out to be Dutch, and as we came up to her, we
perceived that she was the _Ostrich_, the ship of the brave Krink, and
terrible was the spectacle she exhibited. The masts, shot away by the
board, hung trailing over the side, not a human being stood alive on her
blood-stained decks, which were covered with corpses, lying were they
had fallen when she had been abandoned on the previous day.

There was no time to take her in tow, and we left her afloat on the
ocean, the coffin of her hapless crew; then onward we pressed under
every sail we could carry. It was not until noon that we were near
enough to open fire, and it was two o'clock, Dungeness being in sight,
before the whole fleet got into action.

To give an account of the battle would be to describe the scenes of the
previous day. The gallant De Ruiter was well-nigh captured, and would
have been so had not another brave Dutch captain come to his rescue.

Well and courageously did our captains do their duty, imitating the
example of the admiral, and carrying their ships as best they could
alongside the Hollanders. Five or six of their men-of-war were that
evening taken, besides which many others were fearfully mauled.

Another night came down upon the world of waters, bitterly cold, yet
calm and clear, enabling us to distinguish the lights of the Dutch
ships, now retreating towards Boulogne.

The second night was spent like the first, and a third day found us
still in sight of our unconquered foe. The wind had shifted to the
southward, preventing their escape, and our frigates being again
despatched with all canvas set, bore down on the richly-laden
merchantmen, while we once more assailed the men-of-war.

In vain Van Tromp fought with courage and desperation, endeavouring
while retreating to p