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 of the wall, the same palace from which Alexis watched their abortive assault, and as the day was too far gone for further work, set fire to the houses. It is said that more houses were destroyed in these successive conflagrations than were contained in any three cities of France all taken together.

The usurper had nothing left but flight. He took with him his wife Eudocia and his mother Euphrosyne, embarked in a galley, and disappeared from the city. He was destined, however, to return to it again, a prisoner, to receive the doom of death.

The city almost in the hands of the enemy, the flames raging through street after street, their emperor fled, their Varangians refusing to fight—what was to be done? The people ran shouting and crying to their great Church of St. Sophia: would any one become emperor? It showed how deeply the spirit of superstition had sunk into the Byzantine heart, that, whatever was the emergency, they always began by proclaiming an emperor. They were helpless without one; they had lost the power of independent action; they trembled at responsibility. This mental condition is the most inevitable, as it is the worst, result of imperialism.

They elected Theodore Lascaris, son-in-law of Alexis III. He undertook to rouse, if possible, the Varangians to resistance. They still refused to fight. Probably they were disgusted at the helplessness of a city of half a million which suffered itself to be taken by an army of 30,000 men. Without fighting, it was useless to remain as an emperor within the walls of the city. The