The comrades, with Villehardouin and other knights, stepped out upon the flying bridge, which Venetian shipmen lowered by ropes and pulleys from the masthead to the level of the tower's top. Sir James and Hugh, leaning against the webbed ropes which guarded the end of their frail foot rest, crossed lances with the Greeks on the tower. Strange faces frowned at them; strange war-cries rang in their ears. Ralph shot his arrows between their shoulders, sometimes transfixing two and three of the enemy at one discharge. Nearer and nearer crept the Paradise and her mate the Pilgrim. Looking down for a fleeting instant from the dizzy height of the flying-bridge, Hugh saw the armoured figure of the Doge, the gonfalon of St. Mark beside him, standing impassively on the stern-castle of their companion-vessel.
Suddenly Hugh heard his father's voice through the eye-holes of his helm.
"Art ready, Hugh?"
He nodded for answer, and turned to see if Matteo was poised behind him. The jongleur's eyes met his with a cool smile. The next instant the end of the flying-bridge touched the tower's battlements, and Sir James leaped high in air. For the space of a breath Hugh hesitated, conscious though he was of others jostling his heels for the next chance. The tower looked so small, the ground and water so far below. But he shut his eyes and leaped.
He landed in a press of bodies, and caught a sword-stroke on his shield. There were Greeks all around him, and a few feet distant he saw his father similarly encompassed. But while he looked Matteo joined him. Then came Villehardouin and others. Soon there were as many Crusaders as Greeks on the tower. The Greeks began to cast down their arms and flee. The Crusaders leaped forward and quickly won the postern giving upon the wall. Villehardouin led a rush to the street behind the walls and flung open the nearby gate. A signal was displayed from the Pilgrim, and the horse-transports trimmed their sails to the favouring breeze and headed for the shore.
Demoralisation spread rapidly amongst the Greeks. Tower after tower was carried; gate after gate was opened. And presently columns of mounted knights were riding into the water-front streets of Constantinople.
Villehardouin's troop swung northward as soon as their horses were landed. They were directed to seize the Palace of Blachernae, and in advance of the column, rode the comrades, shoulder to shoulder, hoofs thundering on the cobbled way. Such Greeks as they encountered fled up the side-streets. They saw no soldiers all the way to the great gate of the Palace, which a parcel of frightened varlets were trying to shut.
These scurried off at first sight of the invaders, but Hugh ran down one in the courtyard and his father cross-questioned the man. The Court had gone, the fellow quavered. Everybody but the servants had left for the Palace of the Bucoleon—except those who were fighting upstairs.
"Who?" demanded Sir James.
"Nay, lord, I know not. I saw the black mutes on the stairs, and I fled."