In the Priory courtyard he mounted the grey stallion that one of the lay brothers brought forward, and rode slowly through the gateway, past the plantations and Priory farms into the bosky shades of Crowden Wood. His thoughts were busy with old memories, and he gave no heed to the grey stallion's pace. The wise horse tossed his head as he felt the loose rein, peered sideways, then trotted toward the London Road.
In his mind's eye Hugh saw the last ride he had taken with Edith. Every scene stood forth—the wild scamper after the fox, the baying hounds, the dank smell of the mould underfoot, the plunge into the sunlight when the hounds killed—and the sudden meeting with Mocenigo. Since then no word had reached them of Edith, save only a brief scrawl on parchment left at Blancherive by a wandering palmer. She was safe. So much it said; no more. Hugh caught himself wondering if she was as happy as she had been at Blancherive.
The palmer was an uncouth, hairy fellow, not over-clean; but after a hearty meal and a horn of heated ale, he had been induced to recount his travels to a small circle of gentlefolk and a larger ring of men-at-arms, squires and bailiffs. Hugh had listened eagerly to his description of Constantinople.
"Ah, Lords, there is a city! A city, said I? Beshrew me, fair sirs, 'tis an empire in itself. It is set at the very centre of the earth, so they say. The great Emperor Constantine, first of the Roman Cæsars to adopt Christ, by some art-magic, or perchance a vision of the Virgin—he was oft favoured by Our Lady, we are told—was brought to knowledge that here was the precise central spot of mankind. And here he determined to plant a city which should out-do Rome. He commanded that the city should be built. He brought artisans, merchants, nobles, soldiers, masons, all men needful for a great city. So grew Constantinople."
"Is it larger than the Holy City?" had asked Sir Godwin.
"Larger? My lord, Jerusalem would not fill one of the outer wards of Constantinople. 'Tis larger than any other four cities in the world."
"And it is strong?" questioned Hugh.
"Lordling," returned the palmer, "'tis girt about by land and sea with the hugest walls men ever reared. On two sides these walls are washed by the sea. On the third side, which faceth toward Europe, there is a moat as wide and deep as a river and three walls rise one above the other. In a thousand years no enemy hath forced it."
"It is very rich?" pressed Hugh.
"All the wealth of the world, but for what little trickles through their fingers, have the Greeks amassed in Constantinople. Never were there such riches. Gold and gems and silks and spices—everything that men set store by flows to Constantinople from the East and the West, from the North and the South. The heathen of Russia, the Bulgarians, the Hungarians, the Saracens, the Turks, the Moors, the Mongols, the Franks—all these and many more people come to Constantinople to traffic or send thither their wares. Within the walls the Emperor hath two great palaces, each as large as a city, and all of the nobles have palaces builded of stone, each as strong as a fortress and as fair as a dream. It hath churches greater than were builded by the giants of old. Of relics there is a profusion like unto nothing imaginable."