"This Comnenus, also, warned you not to journey to Constantinople?" exclaimed Sir James. "Then he is in it, too!"
"In what?"
"Nay, I will tell all, fair son, when the time comes. Do you finish first your tale. By St. James, 'tis one the jongleurs will make much of, or I do not know the breed of chivalry!"
Hugh described the meeting with the Marshal of Champagne, the passage overland into Italy, the arrival at Venice and the reappearance of Mocenigo. Sir James gave eager attention to every statement, but was especially interested in the sidelights Hugh was able to cast upon the intrigues underlying the conduct of the Crusade.
"And where was Lion-Heart all this time?" he broke in impatiently. "I say naught against Boniface of Montferrat. He comes of a good house. But there should have been a prince of kingly rank to lead such a host, and of all princes who is there like Lion-Heart?"
"But—but—" Hugh choked, knowing how hard the blow he must deal, "but Lion-Heart is dead—long since."
"Dead? Lion-Heart dead?"
Sir James was silent a long time, and when he aroused himself it was to sigh deeply:
"It brings home to me that I am become an ancient man, fair son. Lion-Heart is dead, and you are grown to manhood and the world goes well without my aid! Why should I fret for liberty?"
"Because there is many a good stroke to be given," replied Hugh. "I marvel at the breadth and thickness of your shoulders yet, fair lord. We shall win free. I was hopeless, but now I am resolved to be free. Ah, do not despair! Bethink you how much worse would be our lot, an we were separated in our captivity."