on her
deck while he alone stood, in full armor, a target to the host of
Moslems who pushed forward in their galleys anxious for the honor
of capturing this great ship. Condalmiero ordered his gunners to
hold their fire until the enemy were within arquebus range. Then
the broadsides of the galleon blazed and the surrounding galleys
crumpled and sank. A single shot weighing 120 pounds sank a galley
with practically all on board. The signal to retreat was given
and speedily obeyed.

Thereafter there were to be no more rushing tactics. Barbarossa
organized his galleys in squadrons of twenty, which advanced, one
after the other, delivered their fire, and retired. All the rest
of the day, from about noon till sunset, this strange conflict
between the single galleon and the Turkish fleet went on. The ship
was cumbered with her fallen spars; she had lost thirteen men killed
and forty wounded. The losses would have been far greater but for
the extraordinarily thick sides of the galleon. After sundown the
Turkish fleet appeared to be drawing up in line for the last assault.
On the _Galleon of Venice_ there was no thought of surrender; the
ammunition was almost spent and the men were exhausted with their
tremendous efforts, but they stood at their posts determined to
defend their ship to the last man.

Then, to their astonishment Barbarossa drew off, sending some of
his galleys to pursue and cut off certain isolated Christian units,
but leaving the field to the Venetian galleon. Meanwhile, during all
that long, hot afternoon the great fleet of Andrea Doria, instead
of pressing forward to the relief of the _Galleon of Venice_ and
crushing Barbarossa with its great superiority in numbers, was
going through strange parade maneuvers about ten miles away. Doria's
explanation was that he was trying to decoy Barbarossa out into
deeper water where the guns of the nefs could be used, but there is
no other conclusion to be reached than that Doria did not want to
fight. Fortune that day offered him everything for an overwhelming
victory, one that might have ranked with the decisive actions of the
world's history, and he threw it away under circumstances peculiarly
disgraceful and humiliating. Never did commander in chief so richly
deserve to be shot on his own deck. The following day as a fair
wind blew for Corfu, Doria spread sail and retired from the gulf,
while Barbarossa, roaring with laughter, called on his men to witness
the cowa