ost him his youth and his life. It might mean years
of wandering, but there was a spark of hope in it. There, in the bleak
hut, he suffered the extreme of mental anguish A heavy door seemed to
have closed between him and all that he held dear. He fell on his knees
and prayed to the saints to support his loneliness. And then he found
comfort, for had not God's Son suffered even as he, and left the bright
streets of Paradise for loneliness among the lost?

Next morning he faced the world with a clearer eye. It was not difficult
to provide for the Franciscans. They, honest men, understood nothing
save that the Tartar king had not the love of holy things for which
they had hoped. They explained the offices of the Church as well as they
could to ribald and uncomprehending auditors, and continued placidly in
their devotions. As it chanced, a convoy was about to start for Muscovy,
whence by ship they might come to Constantinople. The Tartars made no
objection to their journey, for they had some awe of these pale men and
were glad to be quit of foreign priestcraft. With them Aimery sent a
letter in which he told the King that the immediate errand had been
done, but that no good could be looked for from this western Khakan. "I
go," he said, "to Kublai the Great, in Cathay, who has a heart more open
to God. If I return not, know, Sire, that I am dead in your most loving
service, joyfully and pridefully as a Christian knight dies for the
Cross, his King, and his lady." He added some prayers on behalf of the
little household at Beaumanoir and sealed it with his ring. It was the
ring he had got from his father, a thick gold thing in which had been
cut his cognisance of three lions' heads.

This done, he sought an audience with the Ilkhan, and told him of his
purpose. Houlagou did not speak for a little, and into his set face
seemed to creep an ill-boding shadow of a smile. "Who am I," he said at
length, "to hinder your going to my brother Kublai? I will give you an
escort to my eastern borders."

Aimery bent his knee and thanked him, but from the courtiers rose a
hubbub of mirth which chilled his gratitude. He was aware that he sailed
on very desperate waters.

Among the Tartars was a recreant Genoese who taught them metal work
and had once lived at the court of Cambaluc. The man had glimmerings of
honesty, and tried hard to dissuade Aimery from the journey. "It is
a matter of years," he told him, "and the road leads through dese