"I have a piece with me," said Villehardouin eagerly. "Here. 'Tis notes of a council Messer Hugh writ down for me from my dictation but yestereve." The Bishop put the two parchments side by side, and instantly he extended them to Boniface. "There can be no question," he exclaimed. "This lord, as is to be expected, writes in the large, round hand which is practised in England and North Europe. 'Tis impossible he could have composed the other parchment." Boniface and his attendant barons--none of whom could do more than sign his name--scrutinised the two parchments closely; and all admitted the difference. It was so marked that it was palpable to the most unlettered man. There was no similarity betwixt the two writings whatsoever. "This clears Messer Hugh of all suspicion," announced Boniface courteously. "How say you, Lord Doge?" Dandolo had not pretended to examine the parchments, for his faint sight was a defect which it irked him to demonstrate in company. "It pleases me to hear a unanimous verdict in the young lord's favour," he said readily. "In particular, because I could not comprehend how one of his promise could be guilty of such a crime. Messer Hugh, in common with all these lords, I cry your pardon. It seems that some one who is your enemy hath attempted to befool us. Have you any key to this person?" "Nay, Lord Doge," answered Hugh, still bewildered by his rapid shifts of fortune. "I cannot say." "Hast been attacked before?" "Ay." "By whom?" "I know not--that is, I know not beyond question." "An you accept my counsel, you will not wait to establish your enemy beyond question," remarked Boniface. "I cry your pardon, fair sir, for the inconvenience you have been put to. Guards, release the young lord and his friend. I beg you will sup at my board to-night, Messer Hugh, and drown your memory of this error in my wine." The Marquis rose as sign that the audience was over, and Villehardouin and other friends pressed close around the comrades. But before they passed out of the pavilion Hugh looked back once over his shoulder. The Young Alexius was resting his dark, shaggy head on the palm of one hand, elbow propped on the arm of the chair. Close by his shoulder leaned Comnenus whispering in his ear. Whether by accident or design, the eyes of both met Hugh's glance, and his spine tingled as though he had received an actual physical shock. Mere boy that he was, Alexius had in his sullen face all the inherent evil that was his heritage from the bloody license which had attended the ill-starred house of the Angeloi. CHAPTER XVI THE IMPERIAL CITY "The city, signori! Behold the city!"