"Is it you, Iwakura?" she said, in a faint voice; "have you come back to me at last? You see that death is merciful, and has reunited us!"
"Alas!" said the Prince, "we still live."
The Kisaki sat up, and leaning on one hand, looked all about her, striving to recollect what had happened; then her eyes returned to Nagato.
"Did not some man tear me from my palace, and carry me brutally away?" she asked.
"A miserable wretch did indeed commit that crime, worthy of a thousand deaths."
"What did he mean to do with me?"
"He meant to imprison you, so that he might impose his own terms on the Mikado."
"Villain!" cried the Queen. "I can guess the rest," she added: "you pursued my ravisher, and rescued me. I am not surprised. I called upon you in the midst of my danger! Just now, when I lost consciousness, I thought of you; I invoked your aid."
With these words the Kisaki cast down her eyes and turned away her head, as if ashamed of such an avowal.
"Oh! I conjure you," cried the Prince, "do not take back those words; do not repent that you pronounced them!"