"I intrust them to you," cried Fide-Yori, showing his army the glorious insignia. He said no more; and drawing his sword, rode off at a gallop.
The whole army, moving with heroic impetus, left the city. The people followed them beyond the suburbs.
From the summit of the hill, Yoke-Moura watched Fide-Yori and his troops march out from Osaka and deploy in the plain. He awaited the Shogun's first offensive movement to attack Hieyas' men.
"Certainly," thought the General, "victory is possible. Signenari, who met death so nobly yesterday, did the enemy much injury; I myself repulsed with considerable loss the detachment which attacked my position. We may cut to pieces that division of the army upon which the Shogun pounces. Then the two hostile forces will be almost equal; and with equal numbers we shall surely triumph."
Fide-Yori's army halted on the plain, occupying the ground where Signenari's camp had been pitched the day before.
"What can they be waiting for?" wondered Yoke-Moura; "why do they pause in their forward movement?"
The leaders ran to the flanks of the various battalions. Strange agitation prevailed in the ranks; evidently something new had occurred. They hesitated; they were making plans. All at once the whole army wavered, faced about, and retracing their steps, re-entered the city.
"What does that mean?" cried Yoke-Moura, amazed, and pale with rage. "What sudden madness has seized upon them? It is a mockery! Are they cowards?"
The soldiers of Hieyas then advanced across the plain abandoned by Fide-Yori. At the same moment Yoke-Moura's men gave the alarm. They were attacked on two sides at once.
"It is well," said Yoke-Moura; "all is now lost."