he Lady Kuchachin, a
damsel of seventeen, beautiful and virtuous, was selected by the Court
and was made ready to be sent to Tabriz, then the capital of the Persian
Empire. The overland journey was highly dangerous, as it lay through
regions tenanted by hostile and warlike tribes, besides being
portentously long to be undertaken by a delicate young princess. The
Persian envoys, accordingly, entreated the Great Khan to send with them
by sea the three foreigners, of whose seamanship they undoubtedly held
high opinion, especially as the young Marco had just returned from his
distant and venturous voyage to the Indian Seas. With much reluctance
the Khan consented, and the argosy set forth.

Having given leave for the three Venetians to sail, the Great Khan
fitted them out nobly and endowed them with handsome presents at
parting. They sailed, so far as we can now make out, from the port of
Zayton, better known as Chinchau, in Fokien, at the beginning of the
year 1292, two hundred years before Columbus set forth upon his voyage
across the Ocean Sea.

It was an ill-starred and unfortunate voyage for the three Polos and
their precious charge, although all escaped with their lives and
treasure. They were detained five months on the coast of Sumatra, and
there were even longer detentions off the southern coast of India, so
that more than two years had passed since their departure from Fokien,
when they arrived at the camp of the then reigning prince of Persia. The
Khan of Persia, they found, had died before they set sail from China,
and his son, Ghazan Khan, reigned in his stead.

After the custom of the times and the people, however, the princess was
married without ado to the successor of the royal person to whom she had
been betrothed before leaving far-off Cathay. It is related that she
took her leave of the three noble Venetians, to whom she had become like
a daughter and sister, with many tears and protestations of affection;
for they had been very choice in their care of her, and she lamented
their departure with sincere sorrow and many tears.

Leaving the princess at the camp of the Khan (for he was now at war),
the Venetians pushed on to Tabriz, where they made a long halt, resting
and refreshing themselves after their long and wearisome journey. Then
they again took up their line of march westward, and reached Venice, as
we have seen, in November, 1295, only to find their identity denied and
their stories disbelieve