as to steer, nor
any certain account of the enemy's destination; everything was left to
his own judgment. Unfortunately, the frigates had been separated from
him in the tempest and had not been able to rejoin: they sought him
unsuccessfully in the Bay of Naples, where they obtained no tidings of
his course: and he sailed without them.

The first news of the enemy's armament was that it had surprised Malta,
Nelson formed a plan for attacking it while at anchor at Gozo; but on
the 22nd of June intelligence reached him that the French had left that
island on the 16th, the day after their arrival. It was clear that
their destination was eastward--he thought for Egypt--and for Egypt,
therefore, he made all sail. Had the frigates been with him, he could
scarcely have failed to gain information of the enemy; for want of them,
he only spoke three vessels on the way: two came from Alexandria, one
from the Archipelago, and neither of them had seen anything of the
French. He arrived off Alexandria on the 28th, and the enemy were not
there, neither was there any account of them; but the governor was
endeavouring to put the city in a state of defence, having received
advice from Leghorn that the French expedition was intended against
Egypt, after it had taken Malta. Nelson then shaped his course to the
northward for Caramania, and steered from thence along the southern side
of Candia, carrying a press of sail both night and day, with a contrary
wind. It would have been his delight, he said, to have tried Bonaparte
on a wind. It would have been the delight of Europe, too, and the
blessing of the world, if that fleet had been overtaken with its general
on board. But of the myriads and millions of human beings who would
have been preserved by that day's victory, there is not one to whom such
essential benefit would have resulted as to Bonaparte himself. It would
have spared him his defeat at Acre--his only disgrace; for to have been
defeated by Nelson upon the seas would not have been disgraceful; it
would have spared him all his after enormities. Hitherto his career had
been glorious; the baneful principles of his heart had never yet passed
his lips; history would have represented him as a soldier of fortune,
who had faithfully served the cause in which he engaged; and whose
career had been distinguished by a series of successes unexampled in
modern times. A romantic obscurity would have hung over the expedition
to Egypt, and he would