He was also assailed from the shore, as well as the sea, as the
castle under which he was at anchor opened fire upon him as soon as it was
discovered by its garrison that the new arrivals were Christians. The fire
was too hot for the corsair to withstand, and, to add to his
embarrassments, the beach soon became lined by hundreds of the fierce
Corsi, awaiting the inevitable end when they should be able to fall upon
the defeated Moslems and wipe them from off the face of the earth; it was a
warfare in which there was no mercy, and if the pirates were to fall into
the hands of the islanders they knew well that they would be exterminated.
In all his venturesome life things had never gone so badly with Dragut as
upon this occasion. On the one side, should he and his men land they would
be massacred; on the other hand, his road to the open sea was barred by an
immensely superior force. Recognising the logic of circumstances, and
seeing no way of escape, the white flag was hung out by the Moslem leader.
The only terms, however, which he could obtain were immediate surrender or
instant death. It must have been a moment of anguish to the man who
hitherto had always ridden on the crest of the wave of success and
achievement to be thus trapped like a rat; and to have the added bitterness
of the thought that had he exercised seamanlike care and precaution in
keeping a good look-out he might have escaped. As it was, he was allowed no
time for reflection, but had to decide on the instant: he did the only
thing possible in the circumstances, which was to haul down his flag and to
become the thrall of his lifelong foes.
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