Читать книгу: «The Usurper», страница 11

"That brat don't know what fear is," said Raiden. "Don't you remember, Prince, how he bit me when I wanted to fight you? I have but one wish now; that is, that he might bite me again."

The sailor tried to separate Loo's locked teeth, and poured a quantity of saki down his throat. The boy swallowed it the wrong way, sneezed, coughed; then opened his eyes.

"What! then I am not dead?" he asked, gazing about him.

"Well, it seems not," cried the delighted Raiden. "Will you drink?"

"Oh, no!" said Loo, "I've had quite enough to drink. Salt water is very nasty; I never tasted it before. I shall have to eat a great many banana preserves before I can get rid of the taste."

"Are you in pain?" said the Prince.

"No," said Loo; "but tell me if the junk has sunk."

"Nothing but the tip of her mast can be seen by this time," said Nata. "The success of our enterprise is largely due to you."

"You see, master, that I am of some use," said Loo, with great pride.

"To be sure; and you are as brave as the bravest man," said the Prince. "But how did you get here?"

"Ah! that's just it! I saw that you were determined to leave me behind, so I hid under the bench."

"But tell me," cried Raiden, "why you pushed the plank so hard, in spite of all my warnings?"

"I wanted to make sure that the junk did not escape; and then I heard a noise in the ship. I had to make haste. Besides, I don't think I could have climbed back again at any rate. There were all sorts of beams and ropes, and chains that tripped me up; for I couldn't see any more than if I'd had my head in a black velvet bag."

"And when that mass of water fell upon you, what did you think?"

"I thought that I was killed, but that the junk would surely sink. I heard the thunder roar, and I swallowed gallons. The water ran in at my nose, my mouth, and my ears; and then I knew no more, felt no more!"

"You were very near death, my poor Loo," said the Prince; "but for your fine conduct I will give you a handsome sword, well sharpened, and you can wear it in your sash like a lord."

Loo cast a look full of pride at his companions, whose faces were lighted up by the moon, and smiled broadly, showing two deep dimples. A misty blue light shone across the sea, so that they could see off for some distance.

"Two junks have disappeared," said Nagato, gazing in the direction of the island; "the third is still afloat."

"I think I see boats hovering about her; do you think our friends can have been taken by surprise?".

All at once the junk keeled over on one side; and instantly a small boat was shoved off, and moved rapidly away. The ship's boats, full of soldiers, chased her, sending a thick flight of arrows after her. Several shots were fired from the junk.

"Let us hasten to their aid!" exclaimed the Prince.

Raiden had already changed the course of the canoe; the other boat, which accompanied them, followed alongside.

"They will never let themselves be taken," said Raiden, who kept turning his head to look, as he rowed.

In fact, the light canoe flew over the waves, while the heavier long-boats, loaded down with men, moved very slowly.

"The junk is sinking! the junk is sinking!" shouted Loo, clapping his hands.

In truth the last vessel remaining above the surface sank slowly; then with one impulse disappeared.

"Victory! Victory!" cried the sailors and the Prince.

"Victory!" was the answering cry from the hotly pursued canoe, which came nearer and nearer.

The three boats were soon side by side.

"Let them chase us," said the Prince; "and do not move too quickly to deprive them of all hope of catching us."

A few shots were fired; several soldiers fell, and were immediately thrown overboard, to lighten the boats. An arrow struck Raiden in the shoulder; but its force was spent; it merely pricked him, and fell into the canoe.

"That was well aimed," said Raiden.

The moon was in mid-heaven; but the polished mirror was dimmed as if by a breath. It soon assumed a rosy tint; then became cottony; then was nothing more than a white cloud. The blue and silver color of the sky was shadowed by a tinge of pale amethyst, which spread rapidly from the horizon; violet lights shimmered over the sea. It was day.

Behind the promontory, the Prince's fleet had heard the shots which were to be their signal; they at once left the shore and spread their sails, which assumed the lovely hue of peach-blossoms in the first sunbeams. As soon as they were within reach of his voice, the Prince of Nagato, standing up in the canoe, shouted with all his might: —

"Surround those long-boats! Cut off their retreat! Capture them!"

Loo danced with delight. "After sinking the big craft, we confiscate the little ones," said he.

The soldiers saw their danger; they put about, and tried to escape. But how could they contend in a trial of speed with oars against those great sails swelling in the morning breeze? The boats were quickly overtaken, then passed. The soldiers gave up all for lost. By steering straight upon them, and with a single blow, one of those large vessels could sink them in a second. They hastily threw their weapons into the water, in sign of submission. The men were hauled on board; then the long-boats were swamped and sunk.

"Go seek your monstrous mother at the bottom of the sea!" cried Loo, as he watched them go down.

The three canoes then joined the flotilla. The Prince and his sailors boarded the large vessels.

Loo related to those who had been left behind how they had swamped the enemy's junks, how he got drowned in a hole, then was brought back to life again, to wear a sword like a lord. The prisoners were counted as they stood with heads bent, resigned, and waiting for their fate. There were fifty of them.

"Our bold plan succeeded better than we could have hoped," said the Prince; "I am still lost in amaze at its realization; but since Marisiten, the god of battles, the divinity with six arms and three faces, has been so far favorable to us, do not let us rest from our labors yet. We must now surround Dragon-fly Island, and cut it off from the rest of the world, until the Shogun's army comes to our relief."

"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried the sailors, made enthusiastic by their recent victory.

"How many soldiers are there on the island?" the Prince asked one of the prisoners.

The soldier hesitated; he looked up and down, then right and left, as if asking advice. All at once he decided to speak.

"Why should I hide the truth?" said he. "There are two thousand."

"Very well!" exclaimed the Prince; "let us make for the island, and allow no one to quit it; then we shall have, not fifty prisoners, but two thousand."

Loud cheers greeted Nagato's words; they set off. Soon the saki went round; the sailors chanted a war-song, which they sang, each in his own fashion, producing a lively but deafening melody.

The deepest consternation reigned in the island. No one could believe his own eyes. The junks, so strong and so beautiful, sank suddenly in the sea; the boats, full of soldiers, did not come back. Who could this enemy be, who struck in the dark? The sentinels had only seen a frail canoe, manned by three men, who, impudently clinging to the ship, hammered away at the hull with all their might and main, and ripped it up; then fled, setting them at defiance.

So there were no more ships; even boats were lacking. They had no means of leaving the island. There they were established, as if in a fortress surrounded by an immense moat. Protected by their war-junks, it was an excellent position indeed. But now the fortress proved their prison; if speedy succor did not come, they were lost. The chief in command of these two thousand men – his name was Sandai – ordered the two best boats to be chosen from the wretched craft belonging to the inhabitants of the island. This order being executed, he appointed five men to each.

"You will set off in all haste," said he, "and rejoin the main body of the army. You will then inform the General of our distressing situation."

The boats started; but when they had gone a little way, they saw a vast circle of motionless sails, which barred their passage. The boats retraced their course. They were blockaded. Sandai collected all the provisions, taking the animals and crops of the inhabitants. There was a week's supply; besides, they could catch fish.

"We must build big rafts, and try to reach the mainland unseen, by night," said the leader.

The men set to work, felled trees, stripped off the branches; thus the day passed. They worked all night as well; but next morning they saw a glitter and commotion on the Soumiossi shore. General Harounaga's army had arrived.

That gay warrior, on his side, was greatly embarrassed. He did not know what to do in face of the foe divided from him by the sea. The fleet was taking in stores at Osaka; it was not yet ready to sail. If he had to wait for its coming before making an attack, the enemy might escape him.

Harounaga encamped his troops on the beach, pitched his tent, and retired into it to consider the situation. Meantime his soldiers fired a few arrows in the direction of the island, by way of salute; they fell in the water, the island being out of range. Nevertheless, towards noon, a well-aimed arrow fell just outside Harounaga's tent, and stuck quivering in the sand. A paper was fastened to the feathered end of the arrow, which was plucked up and taken to the General.

Harounaga unfolded the paper, and read as follows: —

"Prepare for attack. The enemy are in your power. I have deprived them of all means of escape. I will provide you with means of reaching them."

The note was not signed. The General left his tent, and gazed across the water. A fishing-boat was crossing leisurely from Dragon-fly Island to the Soumiossi shore.

"Whom can this letter be from?" thought Harounaga. "Is any one jesting with me? Am I to transport my whole army in that vulgar boat?"

But, as he looked, other boats appeared upon the ocean; they came nearer; their number grew. Harounaga counted them.

"Well! well!" he said, "the project seems feasible. Come, my men!" he cried, "take up your arms; here is a fleet to carry us across!"

As soon as the movement of the troops was apparent, the boats advanced to the shore. The Prince of Nagato was first to land. The Prince recognized the General.

"Ah! it's that stupid Harounaga," he muttered.

Loo leaped ashore. He wore a superb sword at his waist.

"Twenty men to a boat," he shouted. "There are forty of them, which will make eight hundred men to each voyage."

The General came forward.

"What! Prince Nagato!" he exclaimed.

"I am Naiboum,"¹² said the Prince; "all the glory of the affair shall fall to you."

"A sovereign expose himself thus to the risk of battle!" said Harounaga, in surprise.

"I wage war at my caprice, subject to no one; and I find a certain pleasure in these novel sensations."

"You! – you used to care for nothing but feasting!"

"I prefer warfare now," said the Prince, smiling; "I am fickle."

Shots and confused clamor were heard in the distance.

"What is that?" asked the General.

"A false attack upon the other side of the island, to favor the landing of your soldiers."

"Why, you are as good a General as I am," said Harounaga.

The Prince hid a contemptuous smile behind his fan.

The boats, loaded with men, put off from shore, the General accompanying the Prince. Loo had picked up a sort of trumpet; and, leaning forward, blew into it with all his might and main.

Hieyas' soldiers awaited them in a body, on the opposite coast, ready to oppose the landing to their utmost; arrows began to fly thick and fast from both parties. The Prince of Nagato sent forward to right and left a boat full of men armed with guns. They overwhelmed the foe, who had no firearms, with an incessant volley of shot.

Upon shore a furious hand-to-hand fight soon followed. Men fought up to their knees in the water; sword-strokes made the foam splash high. Sometimes two adversaries would pull each other down, roll over, and disappear. Dead bodies and quantities of arrows floated on the waves. Sailors caught hold of the boats, and pushed them violently out to sea. One strong stroke of the oar brought them back. Then some would hang their whole weight on one side, hoping to capsize them. The hands clutching the edge were hewed at with sabres; the blood spurted out, then trailed upon the water like torn rags.

When a boat was empty, it returned in haste to fetch more soldiers; soon the partisans of the Usurper were crushed. They surrendered.

The dead and wounded were numerous. The latter were laid upon the sand, their wounds were dressed, and they were encouraged with kind, fraternal words. Were they not brothers? They wore the same uniform, they spoke the same language. Some wept as they recognized friends in the enemy's ranks. The vanquished men sat upon the ground in an attitude of utter despair; they crossed their hands upon their knees, and bowed their heads. Their swords and bows were gathered up and made into heaps, which were given to the victors.

The Prince of Nagato and the General advanced into the interior of the island. Harounaga swung from his wrist the golden-thonged whip; the scales of his cuirass clattered and clashed as he strode along with one hand on his hip.

"Bring forward the leader of the rebels," said the Prince.

Sandai came forward. He still wore the varnished black leather mask, fitted to the helmet, and worn in battle; he removed it, and revealed his melancholy visage.

The presence of Nagato strangely troubled this chieftain, who had formerly asked and obtained his interest with Fide-Yori. He had afterwards joined the Regent from ambitious motives, and now he betrayed his first sovereign. Nagato's calm and scornful gaze made him feel all the infamy of his conduct; he saw that he could never again hold up his head under the double humiliation of defeat and dishonor. Moreover, the Prince seemed to him clad in peculiar majesty. Amidst his warriors in full armor, their heads protected by strong helmets, Iwakura stood bareheaded, dressed in a black silk robe with a slight tracery in gold; on his hands were white satin gloves, reaching to the elbow, and above each arm a stiff plastron forming an epaulette, and making his shoulders seem very broad. In this guise he looked more formidable than all the rest.

The Prince played carelessly with his fan, and did not appear to recollect that he had ever known Sandai.

"Rebel," he said, without raising his voice, "I do not ask you if you will renounce your crime, and return to the service of your true lord. Pride, I know, survives honor in the heart of man, and you would refuse."

"Prince," said Sandai, "before the battle your voice might have recalled me to my duty, and brought me to your feet; but after defeat no leader can disown his acts and serve his conqueror. Therefore I cannot consent to yield."

"So be it; I will send you back to the master of your choice," said Nagato. "You will set off alone, unaccompanied by page or squire; you will rejoin Hieyas, and say to him this: 'General Harounaga conquered us; but it was the Prince of Nagato who sank the junks which might have rescued us.'"

"Illustrious Daimio," said Sandai, without any sign of anger, "I am a general, and not a messenger. I may be guilty, but I am not a coward; I can endure merited insult without revolt, but I cannot survive it. Send some other messenger to Hieyas; and let him add to the tidings he bears the news of my death."

Profound silence followed this speech. All understood the General's intention, and no one desired to oppose him. Sandai seated himself upon the ground. He drew one of his swords, – the shorter of the two; then; having saluted the Prince, he ripped himself up with a single blow.

"That deed raises you in my eyes," said Nagato, who was perhaps still heard by the dying man.

"Let this warrior be buried upon the island, with the pomp appropriate to his rank," said Harounaga.

Sandai's body was borne away.

"Now," said the Prince, "I will take a little rest. I begin to recall the fact that I spent the whole night upon the sea, and that I never closed my eyes for a second. The victory is as complete as possible. It only remains for you, Harounaga, to establish communications between Soumiossi and the island which you have conquered. You can do so by the aid of rafts, forming a kind of bridge. Despatch messengers to Fide-Yori, occupy the island and the neighboring coasts, keep a watch over the sea, and await fresh orders from Osaka."

"Thanks for your precious advice," said the General. "You are the true victor. Will you permit me to say so to our much-loved lord?"

"No," said the Prince; "announce it to Hieyas only. I desire my name to ring in his ear like a threat."

With these words the Prince of Nagato withdrew. Night fell, quiet and cool; then it passed away, and day reappeared.

General Harounaga came from his tent, and inquired if the Prince had waked. He had grown accustomed to taking his orders and advice. It spared him the trouble of thinking. He had a thousand questions to ask. A messenger ran to the tent which had been pitched for Nagato. It was half open; but on looking in, the Prince was found to be absent.

"He may have gone back to his boat," said Harounaga.

They hastened to the shore. There was not a sail on the sea; the Prince of Nagato's fleet had vanished.

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PRINCIPALITY OF NAGATO

At the beginning of hostilities, Fatkoura, according to the arrangement made by the Prince, had been despatched to Hagui, the castle of her betrothed, under an escort provided by the Queen, to protect her from the dangers of the road. She also took all her household. In the midst of her despair and disappointed love, she felt a cruel pleasure. "There are three of us miserable now," she thought. She had agreed to marry the Prince, with an idea of being avenged. Besides, how could she refuse? The Kisaki had ordered the marriage, nobly sacrificing her own unacknowledged love; moreover, everybody in the palace knew Fatkoura's feeling for the Prince of Nagato. She had revealed it unhesitatingly, in the pride of her joy, when she thought herself beloved. She left the Court hastily, tired of wearing a smiling mask before her friends, whose congratulations overwhelmed her.

During the journey, she saw nothing of the lovely country through which she passed. She kept her eyes fixed on the matting of her norimono, her grief growing ever more profound. Sometimes she sent for Tika; and the girl would crouch down opposite her, and gaze at her with anxious pity, trying to rouse her from her melancholy revery.

"Just see, mistress!" she would say; "see what a pretty river, the color of absinthe, runs between those velvety hills. Every shade of green is to be found there, – the green of the pale willow, of the dark cypress, of the silvery birch, of the turf, bright as an emerald; each adds its varying hue. And look, the moss, to make that green too, has crept all over the water-mill, whose image is reflected in the water. And yonder those reeds# which look like swords, and those ducks, flapping their wings and flying away with necks outstretched, – they are as green as is the rest of the landscape."

Fatkoura did not heed her.

"He will come back to you," said Tika, giving up all hope of turning the thoughts of her mistress from her persistent grief; "when you are his wife he will love you again, you are so beautiful."

"He never loved me, and I don't want him to love me," said Fatkoura; "for I hate him."

Tika sighed.

"I have but one pleasure, and that is to know that he suffers; that she too – she who crushes me by her power and her matchless beauty – is devoured by sorrow. They love, and they may not confess it. I am one obstacle the more between them. The Mikado might have died; then she could have married him."

"A Kisaki! marry a prince!" exclaimed Tika.

"You forget," said Fatkoura, "that Nagato's ancestor was next in rank to the Mikado. Iwakura's crest still proclaims the fact, for it consists of two Chinese characters, meaning: 'The highest rank.' In the days when I loved the Prince of Nagato, the Son of the Gods himself could not have driven him from my heart."

"You love him more than ever," murmured Tika.

Sometimes Fatkoura was moved with pity for her own fate. She recalled the time when the delight of being loved filled her soul; and she wept bitterly. But tears failed to comfort her.

"I am a fool!" she said; "I long to weep upon his shoulder; I fain would pour out my anguish to his cold and cruel heart!"

Then her anger grew strong within her once more.

At last she reached the town of Hagui, situated on the shores of the Japanese Sea. She entered the superb gateway of the ancient fortress of the Princes of Nagato. In the first courtyard Iwakura's father came forward to meet her, and greeted her kindly, saying: "Welcome to your home, Princess of Nagato." Though sixty years old, he was straight and strong. In the nobility of his features the young woman traced some likeness to Iwakura. The Prince had abdicated in favor of his eldest son some years before; he now devoted himself to the education of his youngest boy, a lad of thirteen, who stood beside him, and upon whose head his hand rested.

Fatkoura was forced to smile and seem cheerful. She hid her mouth behind her sleeve, with that modest and affectionate gesture familiar to Japanese women; then she knelt for a moment at the Prince's feet. He treated her in a fatherly manner, – made her splendid presents, installed her in the state apartments, showed her his domains, gave entertainments for her, and got up hunting parties in her honor.

Fatkoura experienced a strange emotion amid these surroundings, which so vividly recalled her betrothed. She saw the room in which he was born; the playthings broken by his childish hands; his first clothes, which still retained the impress of a figure graceful even then. She was told a thousand pretty anecdotes of his adored infancy; then the heroic deeds of the boy and man, his literary triumphs, the nobility of his soul, his goodness and devotion. The old Prince never wearied of the tale; and the father's love tortured and increased the woman's unhappy passion. Then a sort of resignation came to her. By dint of hiding her grief she buried it in the depths of her soul, and diminished it. She tried to forget that she was not beloved; she found comfort in the strength of her own affection.

"I love," she would say to herself; "that is enough. I will be content to see him, to hear his voice, to bear his name. I will be patient. Time, perhaps, may cure his passion. Then he will take pity on my long suffering; he will remember all that I have endured for his sake; his heart will be softened; he will love me. I shall end my days in happiness with him; I shall be the mother of his children."

When the rumors of war were confirmed, anxiety took possession of all hearts; the life of the absent one was in danger.

"Where is he at this moment?" asked Fatkoura.

"He is at the most perilous post, I am sure," replied the old nobleman. He said this with pride, holding his head erect; but his voice trembled, and tears stood in his eyes.

Then more details reached the castle. The Princes of Figo and Tosa threatened Osaka, and also the province of Nagato. Iwakura's father raised an army, and despatched troops to the frontier. "We have one ally, the Prince of Aki," said he; "besides, we shall not be attacked. No one has a grudge against us.".

He was mistaken. The soldiers sent forward by him had not yet reached the limits of the kingdom, when the Prince of Tosa landed on the shores of the inland sea. Full of alarm, the Prince sent a deputation to his neighbor, the lord of Aki, who declared that he intended to remain neutral in the war.

"He is a traitor, an infamous wretch!" cried old Nagato, when his envoys brought him back this answer. "Well, we will defend ourselves unaided, – with no hope of victory, to be sure, but with the certainty that we shall not dim the lustre of our former glory."

When he was alone with Fatkoura, the Prince let all his despondency appear.

"I pray," said he, "that my son may remain with the Shogun, and not return here. Attacked by these powers, we cannot possibly conquer. If he were here, he would rush to his death; and who would avenge us then?"

A party of horsemen now entered the castle. The Prince turned pale as he saw them. They wore Nagato's crest upon their shields.

"Do you bring news of my son?" he asked, in an unsteady voice.

"Illustrious lord, the Prince of Nagato is in good health," said a Samurai. "He is at this moment on the borders of the kingdom, busy rallying the army around him. He intends to march against the Prince of Figo."

"Aki has betrayed us; does my son know that?" said the Prince.

"He knows it, master. The Prince passed through the province subject to that wretch; he supposed him friendly, but was treacherously attacked. Thanks to his unequalled bravery, he scattered his assailants; but half his baggage was lost."

"What orders did he send us through you?"

"These, sire: the Prince of Nagato begs you to levy an extra number of troops and despatch them to meet the Prince of Tosa, who is advancing towards Chozan; then to double the defenders of the fortress, take in large supplies of provisions, and shut yourself up in it; he also requests that you will put me in command of the troops sent against Tosa."

These orders were at once executed.

One event followed another in rapid succession. Other messengers arrived. The Prince of Nagato gave battle in the northern part of the kingdom, in the territory of Suwo; the lord of Suwo, a vassal of the Prince of Aki, favored the landing of Figo's men. But Iwakura defeated these troops on the inland sea; many were drowned, others took refuge on board the ships lying at anchor. Meantime the lord of Suwo's little army attacked the Prince in the rear, trying to cut him off from the province of Nagato; but the army was completely routed, and the Prince was able to regain his kingdom.

Then Figo, supported by fresh forces, reappeared on the outskirts of Nagato; and Iwakura prepared to repulse a second attack.

But while the Prince of Nagato triumphed in the northern part of his domains, the Prince of Tosa invaded them on the south.

The province of Nagato, the extreme point of the Island of Nipon, is bounded on three sides by the sea, – on the south-east by the inland sea divided from the Pacific Ocean by the islands of Shikoku and Kiu-Shiu; on the west by the Straits of Corea; on the north by the Japan Sea; and on the east a mountain chain separates it from the principalities of Suwo and Aki.

The Prince of Tosa came from the Island of Shikoku by way of the Bungo Channel, crossing the inland sea directly to Chozan. His plan was to march through the province straight upon Hagui, the capital, situated on the other side, upon the shores of the Japan Sea.

Tosa encountered the troops hastily levied and sent to the front by the old lord of Nagato; but those raw recruits gave way before the well-trained army of the invader, and beating a retreat, fell back upon Hagui. Preparations were then made to maintain a siege.

The stronghold stood some distance from the town, upon an eminence surrounded by a moat; from the top of its towers could be seen the fields and the sea.

Tosa's army soon covered the plain. The old lord watched it from the fortress.

"My daughter," said he to Fatkoura, "I wish you had stayed in Kioto!"

"Father," replied the young woman, "it is my duty and my pleasure to be here in my husband's castle, when it is in danger."

Moreover her peril distressed her but little. Her anger was dead; she felt nothing now but love; she trembled for her dear one's life; frightful anguish rent her soul. The arrival of a messenger did not allay her fears.

"Since that man left him," she thought, "he might have died twenty times over."

But the castle was blockaded; messengers could no longer reach them.

The town made a brave resistance, but was captured on the fifth day; then began the siege of the stronghold. The Prince of Tosa himself directed the siege.

The enemy first constructed a long roof of wood, covered with plates of iron; then they raised it upon very tall posts, to which they fastened it. This formed a species of penthouse, which they placed in the moat. They then brought earth, stones, and brushwood, which they flung into the water. The arrows aimed at them rebounded from the roof of the penthouse. Huge blocks of stone were hurled from the castle on the hill, to crush this dangerous refuge; but their force was deadened as they rolled, and most of them fell into the moat, – only serving to help the besieging party in their labor, as they quietly went on filling up a portion of the moat, under the sheltering roof which they had built. No more projectiles were therefore thrown from the ramparts.

The soldiers made a sally; and marching down the road which winds around the hill like a ribbon, approached the moat. To reach the point where the foe was at work, they were forced to quit the road, protected by a double row of cypress-trees, and march across the slippery grass which carpeted the steep slope of the hill. The soldiers did their best; but they found it almost impossible to fire under these circumstances, while they themselves afforded a fine target to their adversaries. The wounded rolled down hill and fell into the moat.

Nagato's men gave up the attempt perforce, and returned to the castle. The enemy finished their work without any trouble; making a broad dyke to the foot of the hill, over which the army might pass.

They then stormed the fortress, which resisted bravely, and refused to surrender. The besieged party fought to the last upon, the crumbling walls. The victors rushed in, threw open the doors, let down the bridge; and the Prince of Tosa entered the castle of Nagato to the sound of triumphal music.

The sight which met his eyes in the first courtyard which he entered, affected him most disagreeably. There had been no time to bury the dead, who had been collected in this court, in a sitting posture, their backs against the wall. There were nearly a hundred bodies, with greenish faces, gaping mouths, and staring eyes, their arms hanging limp; they were terrible to behold.