"Oh, well I know 'twould never seem so to you, Hugh! But my pride might not suffer it. In England you have a high rank to fill. You must take your part with the other barons of the realm. You will have your wife--children, in time. You do not need me--or I would come, ay, an it were to clean your stables! Nay, my place is here in Constantinople, or belike, in Outremer. My blood calls me here. Here there is work for me to do. Here men count it not against me that I am a jongleur or that my birth was unhallowed by wedlock. "There is a rift in my heart at thought of losing you; but certes, you will treasure me in your memory, as I will treasure you in mine. And I will make a chanson of your deeds that men shall sing all the way from Outremer to the land of the Scots. Mayhap you will tell your sons of Matteo, and if you have friends who voyage to Outremer, you will bid them seek me out that I may know you are in life. And always, Hugh, there will be none other in my heart save you." Hugh bowed his head in mute acceptance. "Let it be as you wish, Matteo," he answered. "An I do not hold with all that you say, still I know right well that you would do naught which was not worthy and honourable. Only, prithee, take my sword and Beosund as keepsakes of the days we rode together." "Gladly, Hugh." That day week, Hugh, with Sir James, Edith, Sir Cedric and Ralph, set sail from the Golden Horn in the galley _Good Adventure_, Messer Contarini, Master. ------------ A charter in the possession of the Abbey Church of St. Cuthbert of Crowden, bearing date of All Hallows, A.D. 1204, provides for the celebration of a mass weekly for the salvation of the soul of a Paynim lady, mother of the jongleur, Matteo of Antioch, who perished in mortal sin. There are still Chesbys in England, and men still find friends loyal and unselfish in adversity--and England is a greater Empire to-day than ever was the Eastern Rome. EPILOGUE From its very inception the Fourth Crusade was marred by an evil destiny. Born of the pangs of rivalry betwixt Church and State, its object was distorted by ambition, avarice, politics and misfortune. Dandolo utilised it to lay the foundations of Venetian greatness. No other State or people gained anything from it of permanent value. Instead of heeding the advice of the wise old Doge to encourage commerce and bulwark their Empire with trade, the barons of the conquered realm crushed the inhabitants under the iron heel of feudalism. Within a year of his election the Emperor Baldwin was dead, slain by the Bulgarians who had burst the frontiers his knights were too weak to defend. Dandolo died not long afterward, exhausted by the marvellous exertions he had undertaken.