"You are wrong; I shall escape you yet once again," said she. "My last thought is for you, Iwakura!"
Tosa uttered a loud cry. He saw the dagger buried to the hilt in the young woman's breast; then she drew it out and threw it to the ground.
At that instant the panel which closed the entrance flew in splinters. The Prince of Nagato, sword in hand, rushed into the room and leaped upon the Prince of Tosa.
"Ah, wretch!" he shouted; "you insult your captive and my betrothed! You add this unparalleled crime to all your former misdeeds! But the hour of vengeance is at hand; the earth shall be rid of you!"
Tosa had drawn his sword; he struck it against Nagato's blade. But he shuddered; a superstitious fear froze his blood; he felt that he was about to die.
Iwakura, with irresistible force, drove him back to the other side of the room, and brought him to a stand against the wall. Tosa, with bloodshot eyes, glared wildly at his foe; he could but ill defend himself. Nagato dashed the sword from his hand.
"Now you shall die!" he cried; "I will kill you,—not as a man frees himself of a loyal enemy, but as he would crush a scorpion." And with one fearful blow, he nailed him to the wall by the throat.
Fatkoura had not fallen. She stood leaning against the wall, her hand pressed to her wound. The blood gushed between her fingers. The Prince of Nagato left his enemy writhing in awful agony, and ran to her; he saw the blood flowing in rivers.
"What is it?" he cried.
"I am dying," said Fatkoura.