ws tended to confirm, Nelson at once
took the fleet midway between Sardinia and the Barbary coast,
spreading lookouts on either side. Thus, without yielding ground to
leeward, he covered all avenues leading to the eastward. He summed up
his purpose in words which showed an entire grasp of the essentials of
his perplexing situation. "I shall neither go to the eastward of
Sicily, or to the westward of Sardinia, until I know something
positive." Amid the diverse objects demanding his care, this choice of
the strategic position was perfectly correct; but as day followed day
without tidings, the distress of uncertainty, and the strain of
adhering to his resolve not to move without information to guide him,
became almost unbearable--a condition not hard to be realized by
those who have known, in suspense, the overpowering impulse to do
something, little matter what. It is an interesting illustration of
the administrative difficulties of the fleet, that three supply-ships
joined him on the 5th of April, and their stores were transferred at
sea while momentarily expecting the enemy's appearance; one at least
being completely discharged by the night of the 6th.

On this date, Nelson, having waited forty-eight hours to windward of
Sicily, decided to fall back on Palermo; reckoning that if any attempt
had been made upon Naples or Sicily, he should there hear of it. The
lookouts which were scattered in all directions were ordered to join
him there, and a frigate was sent to Naples. On the 9th and 10th he
was off Palermo, and, though he got no word of the French, received
two pieces of news from which his quick perceptions jumped to the
conclusion that he had been deceived, and that the enemy had gone
west. "April 10, 7 A.M. Hallowell is just arrived from Palermo. He
brings accounts that the great Expedition is sailed,[91] and that
seven Russian sail-of-the-line are expected in the Mediterranean;
therefore I may suppose the French fleet are bound to the westward. I
must do my best. God bless you. I am very, very miserable, but ever,
my dear Ball," etc.

A week more was to elapse before this dreadfully harassing surmise was
converted into a certainty. On the 9th he started back from Palermo,
intending to go towards Toulon, to make sure that the French had not
returned again. Meeting a constant strong head wind, he was nine days
getting again to the south of Sardinia, a distance of less than two
hundred miles. There, on the 18th, th