"Lord Marshal," replied the strange lord pompously, "I am one unknown to you, although perchance you have heard of my ill fate. I am the Cæsar Michael Comnenus, an exile from Constantinople, and this is my daughter the Lady Helena. We are riding from Germany into Italy to seek news of our affairs. Of these brave squires I know not even their names, but I can vouch for their gallantry. It had gone hard with us had they not ridden to our rescue." "Certes, I have heard of the troubles of the Cæsar Michael Comnenus," answered the Marshal of Champagne. "Yours is a sad story, lord, and one all too common in these days in Byzantium, if the tales we hear are true. I pray you, sir, do you and your daughter ride with us south into Italy. So you shall be guarded against other mishaps. And now, young sirs, may I have the pleasure of knowing you?" "I am Hugh, lord of Chesby in England," returned Hugh. "I ride on a quest to Outremer. This is Messer Matteo of Antioch, my friend and comrade, who journeys with me." "Chesby!" exclaimed the Marshal. Even the Cæsar and his daughter leaned forward in their saddles at the name. "You are of the blood of Sir James?" asked Villehardouin. "I am his son. I go to seek him." "To seek him? But, lordling, he is----" "He lives," interrupted Hugh coldly. "Lives?" protested the Greek. "Sir James de Chesby lives? Where heard you that, Messer Englishman?" "It matters not, fair sir. I know." The Lady Helena interposed. "Is it not right and just that a son should seek news of a father who hath been lost to him?" she said softly. "A brave quest, Lord Hugh. May the Immaculate One walk beside you." For an instant the long lashes lifted and her eyes beamed into his. Then they were decorously veiled. Hugh's heart thumped faster, and he pressed one hand against his hauberk where a hunting-glove nestled beneath the mail. "You are very kind, lady," he muttered. But the Cæsar was not so readily satisfied. A weak man, he was unconscionably stubborn. "It is because I admire the courage and chivalry of the young English lord that I would convince him of the uselessness of his search," he persisted. "Sir James--the Panagia rest his soul!--is dead these many years. Turn your arms to the task of the Crusade, Lord Hugh. There you shall win honours to match your merit." Hugh listened gravely. The man was his senior in age and of exalted rank. "I will consider your counsel, lord," he answered, and turned away. Despite Hugh's reserve, Comnenus would have said more. But Villehardouin picked up his reins. "Your pardon, lords," he apologised, "but it is a long ride yet to Troyes. We must be on our way. An you do me the honour, I would fain have your company. I must hear more of this quest of yours, Lord Hugh." He raised in his stirrups and flung a bellow of command behind him. The forest of lances stirred into motion and flowed after them.