he sprang on board the enemy alone, waving an immense two-handed sword—­his usual weapon—­and mowing a passage right and left through the hostile ranks for the warriors who tardily followed the footsteps of their vehement chief.  Mustapha Bey, the treasurer and commander of the ship, fell before his sword, besides many others, whom he hardly saw or counted.  The galley was soon his own, as well as another, which came to the rescue of the treasure-ship only to share its defeat.  The booty which Alexander’s crew secured was prodigious, individual soldiers obtaining two and three thousand ducats each.  Don John received his nephew after the battle with commendations, not, however, unmingled with censure.  The successful result alone had justified such insane and desperate conduct, for had he been slain or overcome, said the commander-in-chief, there would have been few to applaud his temerity.  Alexander gaily replied by assuring his uncle that he had felt sustained by a more than mortal confidence, the prayers which his saintly wife was incessantly offering in his behalf since he went to the wars being a sufficient support and shield in even greater danger than he had yet confronted.

This was Alexander’s first campaign, nor was he permitted to reap any more glory for a few succeeding years.  At last, Philip was disposed to send both his mother and himself to the Netherlands; removing Don John from the rack where he had been enduring such slow torture.  Granvelle’s intercession proved fruitless with the Duchess, but Alexander was all eagerness to go where blows were passing current, and he gladly led the reinforcements which were sent to Don John at the close of the year 1577.  He had reached Luxemburg, on the 18th of December of that year, in time, as we have seen, to participate, and, in fact, to take the lead in the signal victory of Gemblours.  He had been struck with the fatal change which disappointment and anxiety had wrought upon the beautiful and haughty features of his illustrious kinsman.  He had since closed his eyes in the camp, and erected a marble tablet over his heart in the little church.  He now governed in his stead.

His personal appearance corresponded with his character.  He had the head of a gladiator, round; compact, combative, with something alert and snake-like in its movements.  The black, closely-shorn hair was erect and bristling.  The forehead was lofty and narrow.  The features were, handsome, the nose regularly aquiline, the eyes well opened, dark piercing, but with something dangerous and sinister in their expression.  There was an habitual look askance; as of a man seeking to parry or inflict a mortal blow—­the look of a swordsman and professional fighter.  The lower part of the face was swallowed in a bushy beard; the mouth and chin being quite invisible.  He was of middle stature, well formed, and graceful in person, princely in demeanor, sumptuous and stately in apparel.  His high ruff of point lace, his badge of the Golden