"Well, now lead your men towards the fortress, while I hold our adversaries here as long as possible."
The General set off. The soldiers of Hieyas returned. The nascent panic was allayed. From every lane on the left they attacked the street which separated them from the river; they were received with volleys of shot and arrows. They retreated; then returned to the charge.
"We must barricade those alleys," said the Prince.
"With what?"
The hermetically closed houses seemed dead. Their mute, blind aspect showed that it would be useless to knock; for it would awake no echo in the soul of the terrified inhabitants. The blinds were wrenched from their hinges, the windows broken open, the houses entered. A sort of pillage began; everything was thrown into the street,—screens, bronze vases, lacquer chests, mattresses, and lanterns. With astonishing rapidity all this was heaped up pell-mell at the mouth of the different lanes. A tea-merchant was entirely stripped; all the exquisite varieties of the aromatic herb, wrapped in silk paper, in leaden boxes, or in valuable caskets, went to swell the pile, and were offered to the ravages of arrows and shot. The air was filled with perfume.
The enemy fought furiously, but could not cross the street. In the direction of the river was heard the sound of another conflict raging there. The Prince sent one of his men that way, saying: "Come and tell us as soon as Yama-Kava wins."
The struggle now became desperate; several barricades were forced; men fought hand to hand in the street filled with dust and smoke.
"Courage, courage!" shouted Nagato to his troops; "a moment more!"
At last the messenger returned.
"Victory!" he cried; "Yama-Kava has crossed the river."