"'Away the startled pheasant flies, with lazy movement of his wings;
Borne was my heart's lord from my eyes—
What pain the separation brings'"
Kuo-chung appeared to be strangling. He struggled for breath. China was faltering on its foundations, yet his cousin indulged in gentle song.
Kao Li-shih came to the rescue. He stepped forward, bowing low. "My Emperor," he said, "it is my painful duty to explain that what the Premier says is true. Loyang is in flames. The inhabitants are fleeing before the surge of the traitorous army of An Lu-shan."
"My son!" the Emperor murmured sadly. The words that leaped to his ears were beyond comprehension.
"Unless we act quicldy," said Kao sternly, "the Dynasty will fall and China will be governed by Tartars."
"I could kill you for that!" bellowed the Emperor. He seemed to have grown old, pitifully old. Yang Kuei-fei put her arm about his shoulders and forced his head against her breast. At that he burst into tears and wept. He wept for An Lu-shan, his son, the Prince who had violated every moral code. Nevertheless, if An Lu-shan threatened the Empire, if An Lu-shan were a traitor, son or no son, he must be destroyed.
"Where are the troops?" Ming Huang cried firmly, though it was an effort for him to regain his composure. "Where are the forces of Li Mi? Why do they not head
off the attack? If they swarmed along the walls of
