On the following day Hugh and Edith were married in the Church of Our Lady of Blachernae. Sir Cedric had recovered sufficiently from his wounds to be present, and all the barons came to wish the couple happiness. The Emperor Baldwin himself stood at Hugh's elbow, and when the service was ended drew him to one side. "The Marshal of Champagne is a close friend to me, Messer Hugh," he said, "and he has told me much of your merit. It is my desire that you will remain here and assist me in the work of conquering my Empire, for there is much to be done before we may move against the Saracens. How say you if I give you the Duchy of Adrianople?" Duke of Adrianople! Hugh's head swam at the thought. "Prithee, give me leave to think upon it for a day, Augustus," he answered. The Emperor nodded. "Be it so. I need a young, active lord to be Warden of the Bulgarian March. There will be great glory for you, Messer Hugh." That night Hugh told Edith. "What think you of becoming Duchess of Adrianople?" he asked. She looked at him, troubled and uncertain. "Whatever you wish, Hugh, that is my wish, too. But----" She hesitated. "But what?" "I love our England." "Ay, so do I," admitted Hugh. He could not make up his mind, and in the middle of the night he sought his father's chamber. Sir James listened to his tale in silence. "Duke of Adrianople," he repeated when Hugh had finished. "Ay, 'tis a vast honour. Boniface is to be King of Salonica, and chief feudatory of the Imperial Crown, but you would press him close. You should win great place and power, fair son. But----" He hesitated as Edith had done. "My mind is open, lord," said Hugh. "Then hear my counsel," replied Sir James, with sudden decision. "Hugh, I would not have you make the mistake I made. 'Tis well enough for a man to go upon Crusade or aventuring to fulfil a vow, mayhap. But he who severs himself from home loses more than place and power can supply. Get you to England, Hugh. In England lies your lot. There will you be Lord of Chesby soon--ay, and of Blancherive, too, I make no doubt. England is your home. For England should you work. I say naught of those who remain here. But for myself----" "Ay?" Hugh prompted. "Nay, Hugh, I will do that which you do." "You will stay, if I stay?" "Ay, there must be work for old knights like me." "Work!" retorted Hugh. "For you, with the Treasure of the Bucoleon in your power to disclose! You may have what you will!" Sir James buried his face in his hands. "It may not be," he answered tonelessly. "You know not what you say, fair son." "But why?" "For that this treasure is not mine. It belongs to a dead man--who trusted me. I may not betray his trust. My honour would be soiled thereby. It was his wish that this wealth, which he wrung from those he deemed to have defrauded their fellows, should be put to use to build up anew this broken Empire." "Is not that what we do?" cried Hugh.