Admiral Vacca, thinking that Persano had gone down with the _Ré d’Italia_, had signalled to the fleet to re-form in line of battle. The same signal from the _Affondatore_ showed him where his commander was. And the ironclads, now reduced from ten to eight, re-formed in line. It was noon on a blazing hot day, and for some time the two fleets watched each other across the sunny space of open water that divided them. Persano had still the advantage of numbers, and everyone expected that he would signal to renew the attack. But if he had very little confidence in his fleet before the battle, he was now reduced to a condition of something like despair. Even the wooden ships of the Austrian squadron had passed in safety through his line, while their ironclads had destroyed two of his ships and more than a thousand of his men. It must be added that he had now been three times in action, and his stock of both coals for his engines and ammunition for his guns must have run very low. In this state of affairs, he persuaded himself that he need not actually attack the Austrians; all that honour demanded of him was to give them the opportunity of renewing the trial of strength if they wished. So for another hour he remained in line of battle, just out of long range of his enemy’s guns. But Tegethoff had accomplished the task assigned to his fleet. He had relieved Lissa, by bringing the guns, the men, and the supplies of his fleet to the help of its brave little garrison. He had done this, too, not by slipping past the Italians in the morning fog, but by fighting his way through their most powerful squadron, making them pay dearly for their attempt to intercept him. Why should he renew the fight when there was nothing more to be gained for the moment?