IV

_The Preparation of Courage_

So Raymund Lull (at home and in Rome and Paris) set himself afresh to
his task of preparing. At last he felt that he was ready. From Paris
he rode south-east through forest and across plain, over mountain and
pass, till the gorgeous palaces and the thousand masts of Genoa came
in sight.

He went down to the harbour and found a ship that was sailing across
the Mediterranean to Africa. He booked his passage and sent his goods
with all his precious manuscripts aboard. The day for sailing came.
His friends came to cheer him. But Lull sat in his room trembling.

As he covered his eyes with his hands in shame, he saw the fiery,
persecuting Saracens of Tunis, whom he was sailing to meet. He knew
they were glowing with pride because of their triumphs over the
Crusaders in Palestine. He knew they were blazing with anger because
their brother Moors had been slaughtered and tortured in Spain. He saw
ahead of him the rack, the thumb-screw, and the boot; the long years
in a slimy dungeon--at the best the executioner's scimitar. He simply
dared not go.

The books were brought ashore again. The ship sailed without Lull.

"The ship has gone," said a friend to Lull. He quivered under a
torture of shame greater than the agony of the rack. He was wrung with
bitter shame that he who had for all these years prepared for this