"We have taken their city once, lords," returned Dandolo coolly. "Certes we may take it again." "Well spoken! Well spoken, Lord Doge!" applauded the barons. "What is done once may be done a second time! Let the Greeks look to themselves! We have condoned much! A just cause--God will aid us!" When the clamour had died down Conon de Béthune, the Marshal of Champagne and Miles the Brabant were chosen to represent the host, with three captains of the Venetians to speak for the Doge. As the Ambassadors filed out of the pavilion in which the parliament was held, Villehardouin beckoned to Hugh. "Art armoured, lad?" he whispered. "'Tis well. Ride with me into Constantinople. I shall be right glad to have another good sword by my side." Whilst Hugh mounted Beosund, Matteo hurried up and pleaded with the Marshal to take him, too. But Villehardouin was adamant. "There is naught would please me more, Messer Matteo," he said. "But the only reason I take Hugh is that we may have one amongst the embassy who can write down afterwards what passes. Art ready, lords? Then prick on, and St. Remi guide our way." The ambassadors rode from Galata, crossed the head of the Golden Horn by the Bridge of the Camels and halted at the Gate of Blachernae. Here, when they announced their purpose, the warders admitted them, but insisted that they must leave their horses. They were conducted under guard through the outworks of the precincts of the palace, and after some delay were ushered into the Hall of Audience. The gorgeous room was crammed with nobles and their ladies dressed in the shimmering stuffs of the East; on the dais sat the Emperor Isaac and the Young Alexius. Comnenus, as Chancellor, stood before the throne. But instead of the smiles and pleasant greetings that hailed their first entrance into Constantinople, now the ambassadors encountered sour looks, muttered threats and disdain. Hugh searched the throng for familiar faces. He saw Sir Cedric, resplendent as ever in scarlet surcoat and silvered mail, standing like a hoary old pine-tree at the Emperor's back, his face wooden in its impassivity. He saw Helena Comnena flitting through the group of ladies about the Empress. And despite himself, his glance was drawn to Edith's face that eyed him sadly from under her immense draped head-dress. His heart beat faster as her eyes met his. He hoped--he dared to think--that they were kinder than they had ever been, reminiscent of---- But Comnenus was speaking, and he forced himself to wrench his attention back to the weighty affairs of the moment. "The Augustus greets you, lords, by me," said the Cæsar smoothly. "He asks the object of your visit, unannounced?" "The Augustus has been wont to talk to us direct and not through his underlings," answered Conon de Béthune, who had been nominated spokesman of the embassy. "Why doth he change his policy?"