"But do you really think that we shall let you thus despoil our child before our eyes?" he continued. "Do you think, because you do not choose to give up what you have taken, that we will not wrest it from you? The crimes which you plot have clouded your intellect; you have no soul or honor left; you dare to stand erect before your master,—before him whom you strove to kill!"
"He not only tried to take my life," said Fide-Yori; "that man, more savage than the tiger, has this night caused the murder of my most faithful servant, my dearest friend, the Prince of Nagato!"
A shudder of horror passed over the assembly, while a flash of joy illumined the eyes of Hieyas.
"Rid of that formidable foe," he thought, "I shall soon master Fide-Yori."
As if replying to his thought, the voice of Nagato was heard. "Do not rejoice too soon, Hieyas," it said; "I am alive, and still in condition to serve my young master."
Hieyas turned quickly, and saw the Prince, who had just lifted a heavy curtain, and now entered the hall.
Nagato looked like a ghost; his eyes, glittering with the light of fever, seemed larger and blacker than usual. His face was so pale that it could hardly be distinguished from the narrow white bandage spotted with blood which bound his head. A spasm of pain shook his limbs, and caused a crystal box that sparkled in his hand to quiver.
General Yoke-Moura ran to him.
"What madness, Prince!" he cried, "to rise and walk, after losing so much blood, and in spite of the orders of your doctors!"
"Bad friend!" said Fide-Yori, "will you never cease to play with your life?"