As she uttered the word, her heart seemed to break within her; she was on the point of falling into the Prince's arms, exclaiming: "Take me; let us go where you will!"
"Farewell!" he whispered; "do not forget that you have given me your tryst on the threshold of another life."
She fled with a sob. As she reached the pagoda, she turned back for the last time. She seemed some super-natural being, standing in the moonlight, in her robe of gold, which glittered beneath her silk tunic, white as her face. Iwakura stretched out his arms to her; but the high-priestess of the Sun vanished in the darkness, which wrapped her round and hid her forever.
[CHAPTER XXX.]
BATTLES.
Heiyas was at the gates of Osaka with an army of three hundred thousand men. Coming from the northern provinces, he had traversed the great Island of Nipon, crushing, as he passed, the detachments stationed to guard the country. The soldiers of Fide-Yori died like heroes; not one flinched. The troops of the princes, on the contrary, made but a feeble resistance. However, it was impossible to stay the course of Hieyas' army, mighty as a river swollen by rain. It reached Osaka, and surrounded the city. Without pausing for rest, it attacked the town simultaneously on every side.
Fide-Yori had divided his army into three bodies of fifty thousand each: Signenari and Moritzka commanded the first; Harounaga, Moto-Tsoumou, and Aroufza, the second; Yoke-Moura, the third. The soldiers were valiant; their leaders determined to die if they could not conquer.
The first shock of arms was terrible. The men fought with unparalleled fury and desperation. Had their numbers been equal, Fide-Yori's troops must have carried the day; they were so resolved to be slaughtered rather than retreat, that they were not to be shaken. General Yoke-Moura was attacked by twenty thousand men armed with muskets, having himself but ten thousand stationed on the hill called Yoka-Yama; his men also had guns. One discharge of musketry followed another in rapid succession, until the ammunition was exhausted. Yoke-Moura was only waiting for that moment, having noticed that his adversaries were merely armed with guns and swords, and carried no lances. He then rushed headlong down the hill. His troops, lance in hand, fell upon their opponents, who, almost defenceless, fled in disorder.