vidual could decide the
day, and the result was due to the combined determination of all. Had Don
John remained at Naples, the issue might have easily been the same.
Barbarigo, who sealed the victory with his blood; Colonna, who celebrated
a solemn triumph on his return to Rome; Parma, Doria, Giustiniani,
Venieri, might each as well have claimed a monopoly of the glory, had not
the Pope, at Philip's entreaty, conferred the baton of command upon Don
John. The meagre result of the contest is as notorious as the victory.
While Constantinople was quivering with apprehension, the rival generals
were already wrangling with animosity. Had the Christian fleet advanced,
every soul would have fled from the capital, but Providence had ordained
otherwise, and Don John sailed westwardly with his ships. He made a
descent on the Barbary coast, captured Tunis, destroyed Biserta, and
brought King Amidas and his two sons prisoners to Italy. Ordered by
Philip to dismantle the fortifications of Tunis, he replied by repairing
them thoroughly, and by placing a strong garrison within the citadel.
Intoxicated with his glory, the young adventurer already demanded a
crown, and the Pope was disposed to proclaim him King of Tunis, for the
Queen of the Lybian seas was to be the capital of his Empire, the new
Carthage which he already dreamed.

Philip thought it time to interfere, for he felt that his own crown might
be insecure, with such a restless and ambitious spirit indulging in
possible and impossible chimeras. He removed John de Soto, who had been
Don John's chief councillor and emissary to the Pope, and substituted in
his place the celebrated and ill-starred Escovedo. The new secretary,
however, entered as heartily but secretly into all these romantic
schemes. Disappointed of the Empire which he had contemplated on the edge
of the African desert, the champion of the Cross turned to the cold
islands of the northern seas. There sighed, in captivity, the beauteous
Mary of Scotland, victim of the heretic Elizabeth. His susceptibility to
the charms of beauty--a characteristic as celebrated as his courage--was
excited, his chivalry aroused. What holier triumph for the conqueror of
the Saracens than the subjugation of these northern infidels? He would
dethrone the proud Elizabeth; he would liberate and espouse the Queen of
Scots, and together they would reign over, the two united realms. All
that the Pope could do with bulls and blessings, letters o