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and watched the porcine gateman waddle across the square, leading a slender young Greek with the air of a jovial pirate. These people , these Greeks—a supremely deceitful race , thought de Bracineaux darkly, natural-born thieves and cut-throats each and every one. The easy, carefree grace of the young man—the insufferable indifference of his long, loping stride, and the subtle expression of superiority on his swarthy features filled the commander with a rank and bitter loathing. It seems, he decided, an example is in order here.
    The thought made him feel better. Perhaps all was not lost. After all, the thief could not possibly know what it was she had taken, could not possibly imagine its unrivalled importance, its inestimable value. It had been the rash act of an ignorant and opportunistic slut, and she would pay for her impudence—he would see to that. First, however, he would teach the sly young Greek a lesson he would never forget.
    â€œDo you recognize him?” grunted the sergeant as the porter trundled nearer.
    â€œI have seen him before. He is the one.”
    â€œGreetings, my lord, a splendid day for a ride in a chair. Where would you like to go?”
    â€œShut up, you,” said Gislebert sharply. “You will speak when spoken to—understand?”
    â€œThat is not necessary, sergeant,” said de Bracineaux wearily. “He is not to blame.” Regarding the slim dark youth before him, he said, “What is your name, boy?”
    The youth bristled at the derisory word but, considering the angry-looking men before him, swallowed his pride and said, “I am Philippianous. How can I help, your majesty?”
    The commander’s eyes narrowed; he could not tell if the youth was making fun of him; more likely, he decided at last, the young fool really thought he was a king. “You brought two women to Blachernae Palace last night. Where did you take them when they left?”
    â€œI do not recall.”
    â€œLiar!” snarled Gislebert, drawing back his hand.
    Philippianous glared at the Templar sergeant. “Is it my fault if a man cannot remember where he put his whores?”
    Gislebert gave out a growl and swung at the young man, who jerked back his head, letting the blow sail harmlessly by. Before the sergeant could regroup for another swing, his commander called him off, saying, “That will do, sergeant. He is used to being paid for his service, so we will pay.”
    De Bracineaux put his hand into the leather purse at his belt, withdrew it and flipped a gold solidus to the young man. “I trust that will help restore your memory,” he said.
    Philippianous caught the coin in his fist and examined it before replying. “They must be very important to you.”
    â€œWhere did you take them?”
    â€œI brought them here,” he sighed, as if the conversation no longer interested him, “because that was all the money they had.” He turned to go.
    â€œA moment!” said de Bracineaux. “I think you may be of further service to me. I will pay you for your trouble, never fear.” To the porter, he said, “Take him back to the palace and wait with him there.”
    When the two had gone, the Templars continued on. “He was lying,” Gislebert said.
    â€œNo doubt,” replied the commander placidly.
    â€œI could have made him tell us.”
    â€œWe will, but not here. The boy is well known hereabouts, and too many people have seen us already. If the women are close by, I do not want them warned off by a street fight.”
    â€œWhat do you intend, commander?”
    â€œGive him inducement enough to consult his memory, and we will soon have the letter in our possession once more.”
    They rode on to the church of the Holy Apostles, whichwas no great distance from the square, attended a lengthy mass, and then broke fast at an inn which was frequented by many of the Templars who were now more or less