ow light,
outlining the nef and the slender, wicked-looking galleys with their banks
of oars; over the surface of the deep a slight mist hovered, as though some
kindly spirit of the sea would hide, if such a thing were possible, the
deeds which were to come. The three galleys lay close together, and Uruj
and his brother held a few last words of counsel.

"It is agreed, then," said the elder; "you, my brother, attack the
starboard side and I on the port side, while Hassan Ali [indicating the
captain of the third galley] will await the time when we are fully engaged,
and will then board over the stern."

"It is agreed," answered Kheyr-ed-Din, and Hassan Ali.

As the strong sun of a perfect May morning in the Mediterranean leapt above
the horizon, Uruj loosed his hounds upon their prey; the oars of the
galleys churned the clear blue waters into foam, and the air was filled
with the yells of the corsairs. "Allah! Allah!" and "Barbarossa!
Barbarossa!" they cried. It was a war-cry that was destined to re-echo over
many a conflict, both by land and sea, in the years that were to come.

In a simultaneous, and as we have seen a concerted attack, the beaks of the
galleys crushed into the broadsides of _The Galley of Naples_, and, ever
foremost in the fray, Uruj and Kheyr-ed-Din were the first two men to
board. Then, when men were hand to hand and foot to foot, when Moslem
scimitar rang on Christian sabre, and the air was filled with the oaths and
shouts of the combatants, the third remaining pirate craft grappled _The
Galley of Naples_ by the stern, and a tide of fresh, unwounded men burst
into the fray. This was the end; the Christians were both outnumbered and
outfought, for among them were many who were not by profession warriors,
whereas no man found a footing among the Sea-wolves, or was taken to sea as
a fighting man, unless he had approved himself to the satisfaction of his
captain that he was a valiant man of his hands. We have no record or list
of the dead and wounded in this battle, but among the latter was Uruj, who
was severely hurt. Not so Kheyr-ed-Din, who escaped scatheless and took
command now that his brother was incapacitated. The dead were flung
overboard with scant ceremony, and the wounded patched up as best might be,
and then _The Galley of Naples_ was taken in tow, and the corsairs returned
in triumph to Tunis. Faithful to their treaty, so far, they laid one-fifth
of their spoils at the feet of the Sultan