mmanded by Dragut;
the left wing hugged the shore as closely as possible; the Ottoman
commander-in-chief intended to commence operations on the first principles
of strategy by flinging his whole force on a portion of that of the enemy.

Andrea Doria remained undecided: he was on a lee shore, and that shore was
the coast of the enemy; although his foes were advancing to the attack it
seemed as if he had no mind to fight: whether he had or had not he
displayed a most remarkable sluggishness, hesitating for three hours before
getting up his anchors; these he only weighed at last under pressure from
the bellicose Patriarch of Aquilea, Vincenzo Capello, and the Papal
captain, Antonio Grimani. Doria had counted on the support of the _Galleon
of Venice_ and the nefs; but the galleon was becalmed four miles from the
land and ten miles from Sessola, where Doria was at the beginning of the
action.

Condalmiero sent a light skiff from the _Galleon of Venice_ to the
commander-in-chief demanding orders and help from the galleys.

"Begin the fight," answered the admiral, "you will be succoured."

The position of Condalmiero was that of a modern battleship which is
disabled and surrounded by foes in full possession of their motive power;
the great galleon floated inert upon the waters while the galleys could
fight or fly as they wished. The captain of the galleon, however, had no
alternative save to surrender or fight; but there was no hesitation on his
part, for a more gallant officer never trod the decks of a warship of the
proud Republic to which he belonged.

The Moslem galleys were now close upon him, although as yet out of
gun-shot; around him they wheeled and circled like a flight of great
sea-birds, their ferocious crews shouting their war-cries calling upon
Allah and the Prophet to give them the victory for which they craved; many
a brave Venetian who heard for the first time the name of Barbarossa
shouted in battle must have braced himself for the coming conflict, knowing
all that was imported by that terrible name. The sun shone in a cloudless
sky, the galleon lay becalmed in the middle of furious and ravening foes,
the succour promised by Doria was ten miles away; they saw no movement
which indicated help, and the odds against them were heavy indeed. But all
the nervousness was not on one side, for the _Galleon of Venice_ was
something new in the naval warfare of the time; she carried engines of
destruction in the shap