"It is even I, oh, conqueror of Galata!" "You knew me?" he gasped. "Ay, verily, sir knight. I waited long for you to step up and greet me, and in the end I cast away my poor pride and sought you, supposing that perchance you had dropped me from your memory." "I forget you?" said Hugh bewildered. "Nay, Edith. Hast--hast----" His fingers sought instinctively the place under his hauberk where there nestled--had nestled for two years now--a frayed and soiled little glove. "Do you seek for somewhat else than memory, Messer Hugh?" she questioned. "It is a glove--you gave me," answered Hugh stumblingly. She flushed. "We will not speak of that now. Hast no curiosity to learn how I heard of you?" "And Galata? Ay." "There came one hither in the night--oh, a lady most fair to see, a very queen!--she and her father compassed the downfall of that clown Alexius. When the Empress made us known to one another she asked me if I knew of you. She sang your praises like a jongleur, Hugh. No knight in all the Frankish host to rival you. You must have served her well." Hugh frowned. "You mean the Lady Helena Comnena?" he said coldly. "She----" "Who speaks my name?" The dark, smiling face of Helena emerged from the nearby circle of courtiers. "Ha, by the Panagia, 'tis my Lord Hugh! And hast found your old friend, Messer Hugh? Right glad she was of the news I gave her of you! You must come and see me, Hugh. We lodge in the Palace of the Porphyrogenitus beyond the Tower of Anemas. God keep you!" Still smiling, she was gone. "You saved her from robbers in France, did you not?" asked Edith negligently. "Ay," said Hugh dully. "She told you that?" "Even so. Ah, Hugh, I dare wager there are a-many ladies to sing the praises of such a knight!" Hugh shook his head stiffly. "You mock me. Before I go hence, may I present to you my comrade, Messer Matteo of Antioch?" "The jongleur? Ay, that may you! I have heard reports of his skill." Matteo bowed low before her when Hugh beckoned him forward. "May the Virgin guard you, lady," said the jongleur. "It is right pleasant for me to meet so staunch a friend of Hugh's--and those who are friends to him are friends to me." "Is he so true a friend, this Hugh, Messer Matteo?" she asked. Matteo's face lighted with the glow of an affection that was almost feminine in its intensity. "He is as true a friend as the Lord God may give to a poor wanderer on this earth," he said simply. "I hear great things of him," replied Edith. "I would all I heard came from lips like yours. You----" The trumpets of the Court heralds brayed to announce the return of the Emperor and the chiefs of the host. CHAPTER XX TREACHERY