Thus defended, it was difficult to take the city by surprise. Nagato's eagle eye was everywhere; he had fortified the two bastions which stand at the entrance to Osaka, on either side of the river. By the help of the canals intersecting the entire town, by destroying a certain number of bridges, he had contrived to make a moat, and to insulate the district containing the fortress. The Prince seemed unwearied. With such a leader, who thought of everything, and kindled the ardor of the troops by his words and his example, the city might be defended, and still hope. But all at once Nagato left Osaka.
One evening a horseman paused at the door of his palace. Nagato recognized Farou-So-Chan, one of the nobles especially attached to the service of the Kisaki. Iwakura never saw any one who came from the Dairi without a palpitation of the heart. On this occasion his emotion was yet more marked. Farou-So-Chan was charged with a particular and secret mission.
"Here is a letter which the Kisaki directed me to place in your hands," said he, with a melancholy gravity which struck Nagato.
He unfolded the letter with trembling fingers; it exhaled the delicate perfume which he loved so much.
It read as follows:—
"On the tenth day of the fifth moon go to the province of Ise, to the temple of Ten-Sio-Dai-Tsin, at nightfall; kneel on the threshold of the temple and remain in prayer until a young priest approaches you and touches you on the shoulder; then rise and follow him; he will conduct you to me."
Nagato lost himself in conjectures. What could be the meaning of this singular tryst at the doors of the temple of the Sun-Goddess in the province of Ise? Was it a trap? No; for Farou-So-Chan was the messenger. But then he should see her again; all anxiety faded before that delightful prospect.
The tenth day of the fifth moon was the very next day but one. The Prince had barely time to reach the spot at the hour appointed, and he started in haste.