"Also, I think that you will travel to Constantinople in good company," she flung over her shoulder.
CHAPTER XI
THE GREEN GONDOLA
By the arrangements of the Venetians, the bulk of the Crusaders were transferred to a camp prepared for them on the island of San Nicolo. Villehardouin and the leaders and chief barons were carried on the Doge's state barge to the Palace of St. Mark. As the Marshal went aboard, he called to the comrades standing on the bank:
"Give me the pleasure of your company to-morrow noon, fair sirs. I will make you known to His Magnificence the Doge. It may be he can aid you on your way."
"We will not forget, Lord Marshal," answered Hugh.
With a chorus of farewell shouts from the other knights, the barge shoved off, and the comrades were left surrounded by the ferrymen, each one vociferously demanding the task of carrying them across the lagoons to the city.
"What are we to do?" asked Hugh of Matteo in bewilderment. "Know you where we may come by a night's lodging?"
"That do I," returned the jongleur promptly. "Be at your ease."
He snapped an order in the lingua franca—that polyglot tongue which was the universal medium of intercourse along the polyglot shores of the Mediterranean,—cuffed one ferryman out of the path, thrust the butt of his lance at a second. A way was cleared for them, and they rode to where the various craft were drawn up against the bank. Matteo studied the boats separately, and finally selected one which looked a trifle less shabby than its rivals.