midst of the general conversation nobody noticed them; only Monsieur d’Hémon preserved his discreet and remote expression.
The conversation roved all over the place until suddenly Monsieur d’Hémon, evidently an exceptionally well-informed man, began to talk to Von Graun about his genealogy up to the thirteenth century. The Princess listened with extraordinary interest, whereupon the new guest talked instead about her ancestry, without the slightest difficulty. “Enough,” cried the Princess when he had reached the year 1007, when the first Hagen founded a barony in Esthonia, having murdered somebody or other; for the genealogical experts had been unable to go back any further. But Monsieur d’Hémon continued: This Hagen or Agen the One-armed was clearly a Tartar Prince, captured in the course of an expedition into the district of Kamsk. Persian history mentions a certain Khan Agan, who was the son of Giw Khan, King of the Turkomans, the Uzbeks, Sards and Kirghiz, while he again was the son of Weiwus, the son of the conqueror Li-taj Khan. This “Emperor” Li-taj is referred to in the Chinese chronicles as the ruler of Turkoman, Altai and Western Thibet, who had slain as many as fifty thousand people, amongst whom was a Chinese Governor, round whose head he had had twisted a wet rope, until the bones broke. Nothing was known of Li-taj’s ancestors. More might be discovered if access was ever gained to the archives in Lhassa. His son, Weiwus, who was regarded even by the Mongolians as being rather wild, was beaten to death with tent-poles in Kara Butak. His son
