his brave officer, who commanded the reserve, had already
been of much service to Don John, when the _Real_ was assailed by
several Turkish galleys at once, during his combat with Ali Pasha; the
Marquis having arrived at this juncture, and beating off the
assailants, one of whom he afterwards captured, the commander-in-chief
was enabled to resume his engagement with the pasha.

No sooner did Santa Cruz learn the critical situation of Doria, than,
supported by Cardona, general of the Sicilian squadron, he pushed
forward to his relief. Dashing into the midst of the _melee_,
they fell like a thunderbolt on the Algerine galleys. Few attempted to
withstand the shock. But in their haste to avoid it, they were
encountered by Doria and his Genoese. Thus beset on all sides, Uluch
Ali was compelled to abandon his prizes and provide for his own safety
by flight. He cut adrift the Maltese _Capitana_, which he had
lashed to his stern, and on which three hundred corpses attested the
desperate character of her defence. As tidings reached him of the
discomfiture of the centre and the death of his commander, he felt
that nothing remained but to make the best of his way from the fatal
scene of action, and save as many of his own ships as he could. And
there were no ships in the Turkish fleet superior to his, or manned by
men under more perfect discipline; for they were the famous corsairs
of the Mediterranean, who had been rocked from infancy on its waters.

Throwing out his signals for retreat, the Algerine was soon to be
seen, at the head of his squadron, standing towards the north, under
as much canvas as remained to him after the battle, and urged forward
through the deep by the whole strength of his oarsmen. Doria and Santa
Cruz followed quickly in his wake. But he was borne on the wings of
the wind, and soon distanced his pursuers. Don John, having disposed
of his own assailants, was coming to the support of Doria, and now
joined in the pursuit of the viceroy. A rocky headland, stretching far
into the sea, lay in the path of the fugitive, and his enemies hoped
to intercept him there. Some few of his vessels stranded on the
rocks. But the rest, near forty in number, standing more boldly out to
sea, safely doubled the promontory. Then quickening their flight,
they gradually faded from the horizon, their white sails, the last
thing visible, showing in the distance like a flock of Arctic sea-fowl
on their way to their native homes. Th