"With your favour, fair sirs," he explained, bowing before them, "'tis not the custom to wear mail in Venice. Moreover, there is danger that so heavily weighted you might fall into the water, in which case 'twould be next to impossible for you to be saved. I have brought these garments for your approval."
The comrades were not sorry to be rid of their cumbersome armour, and whilst they attired themselves in the clothes their host's forethought had made available they plied him with questions.
"You go to Constantinople?" he exclaimed. "That is bad. Ordinarily, there would be no difficulty, but the mustering of shipping for the Crusade has withdrawn so many vessels from the merchant service that sailings are few and at long intervals. You must give me time, Messers. I will cast about and endeavour to learn if any of my friends hath induced the Seignory to permit him to load a galley for Constantinople. Then, too, there is always the chance that the Crusade may not start."
"Not start?" replied Hugh. "Why, how may that be, Messer Ziniani?"
The merchant shrugged his shoulders.
"I tell no State secrets," he answered. "If you attend the Doge's parliament with the Barons at noon to-day in the Square of St. Mark, you will discover more than I know, an all I hear be true."
"What hath happened?" asked Matteo.
"No more than that the Crusaders guaranteed to the Seignory a certain number of knights, squires, foot sergeants and horses to be transported to Outremer. On that guarantee the Seignory proceeded to build and contract for the stipulated number of vessels. Now, the Crusaders find that many of their number are missing, and mayhap they will be unable to pay their debts, and so the Crusade will never start."
Their curiosity spurred by Messer Ziniani's gossip, the comrades left Ralph to attend to the horses and furbish up their armour, and departed in one of the gondolas attached to the fondaco to keep their rendezvous with Villehardouin. Scores of other boats were travelling in the same direction, and it was only by appealing to a police-galley that Matteo was enabled to secure for them a landing at the steps by the Doge's Palace, where thousands of nobles and crusading knights already were gathered.
A space on the Square of St. Mark in front of the Palace had been blocked off by guards, and at one end the throne of the Doge was set up. Around it were clustered the patricians of the Republic, all dressed gaily in parti-coloured silks and satins. Opposite them stood the barons and captains of the host, still clad in their mail, the stalwart figure of the Marshal of Champagne to the fore. It was obvious that the Crusaders were ill at ease. Their faces were overcast with sadness, and they talked together by twos and threes, looking often toward the vacant throne.