arched above her the next year, when she learned that Don John of
Austria had received the honourable commission of crushing the rebellion
of the infidel Moriscoes in Andalusia! Here her royal son first proved
himself a glorious military hero, and his deeds at the siege of Galera
and before Seron filled her maternal heart with inexpressible pride. The
words which he shouted to his retreating men: "Do you call yourselves
Spaniards and not know what honour means? What have you to fear when I
am with you?" echoed in her ears like the most beautiful melody which
she had ever sting or heard.

Yet a dark shadow fell on these radiant joys also; her John's friend and
foster-father, Don Luis Quijada, had been wounded in these battles, and
died from his injuries. Barbara felt what deep pain this would cause her
distant son, and expressed her sympathy to him in a letter.

But the greatest happiness was still in store for her and for him. On
the 7th of October, 1571, the young hero, now twenty-four years old, as
commander of the united fleets of Spain, Venice, and the Pope, gained
the greatest victory which any Castilian force had ever won over the
troops of the infidels.

Instead of the name received at his baptism, and the one which he owed
to his brother, that of Victor of Lepanto now adorned him. Not one
of all the generals in the world received honours even distantly
approaching those lavished upon him. And besides the leonine courage and
talent for command which he had displayed, his noble nature was praised
with ardent enthusiasm. How he had showed it in the distribution of the
booty to the widow of the Turkish high admiral Ali Pasha! This renowned
Moslem naval commander had fallen in the battle, and his two sons had
been delivered to Don John as prisoners. When the unfortunate mother
entreated him to release the boys for a large ransom, he restored one to
her love with the companions for whose liberty he had interceded, with
a letter containing the words, "It does not beseem me to keep your
presents, since my rank and birth require me to give, not to receive."

These noble words were written by Barbara Blomberg's son, the boy to
whom she gave birth, and who had now become just what her lofty soul
desired.

After the conquest of Cyprus, the Crescent had seriously threatened the
Cross in the Mediterranean, and it was Don John who had broken the power
of the Turks.

Alas, that her father could not have lived to witness