Victory to the one would mean downfall to the other, and unless a lucky escape intervened, one of the two great admirals would spend the rest of his life rowing his heart out as a galley-slave. Certainly it was enough to make the boxers nervous and hesitating. They were a long time getting to blows, and there was but little actually accomplished. There was an unlucky calm on the sea, and the Galleon of Venice was the centre of the fighting which took place. It was the splendid discipline on board this big craft, it was the excellence of her commander and the unique character of her great guns which made such an impression on Barbarossa's fleet that although the Galleon was severely damaged, yet at the critical time when the corsairs might have rushed on board and stormed her as night was approaching, for once in his life the great nerve of the corsair king deserted him. No one was more surprised than the Venetians when they found the pirate not pressing home his attack. True, the latter had captured a few of the Christian ships, but these were a mere handful and out of all proportion to the importance of the battle. He had been sent forth to crush Andrea Doria and the Christian fleet; he had failed so to do.
Next day, with a fair wind, Andrea Doria made away. The honour of the battle belonged to the Galleon of Venice, but for Barbarossa it was a triumph because, with an inferior force, he had put the Christian admiral to flight. Doria's ship had not been so much as touched, and yet Barbarossa had not been taken prisoner. That was the last great event in the career of Kheyr-ed-din, and he died in 1548 at Constantinople as one of the wickedest and cruellest murderers of history, the greatest pirate that has ever lived, and one of the cleverest tacticians and strategists the Mediterranean ever bore on its waters. There has rarely
