THE KISAKI.
Kioto was only five leagues distant from the camp of Hieyas; but as the
victorious party occupied the side towards Fusimi, the Prince of Nagato
was obliged to take a roundabout route, by the shores of Lake Biva.
Day was beginning to dawn; darkness still covered the earth. But sky
and water began to brighten; a fine mist hung here and there.
The lake is shaped like the musical instrument called a biva; it
stretches behind the mountains surrounding Kioto, and divides them from
the town. The long and narrow part, forming the handle of the guitar,
branches out into a river, and, describing a semicircle, enters Kioto
from the south.
By the orders of General Sanada-Sayemon-Yoke-Moura, General Yama-Kava
was to encamp with his five thousand men on the shore of the lake at
the foot of the mountains; but as he advanced, the Prince of Nagato
became sure that Yama-Kava had abandoned the position. He found traces
of the camp, ashes of dead fires, and holes dug for the tent-poles.
"What does this mean?" he thought. "If the General has left his post,
danger must have called him elsewhere. Perhaps the conflict has not yet
begun; perhaps all is over, and I have come too late."
At this idea the Prince, a prey to a terrible pang, urged his horse
towards the mountain, and hurried up a steep and almost inaccessible
path. If he succeeded in climbing the slope, he could reach Kioto in
a few moments, instead of wasting several hours in winding along the
shores of the lake and river.
Loo was first to follow in his master's tracks. All the sailors soon
imitated his example, after recalling the advance-guard. With great
difficulty they gained the crest of the hill; it was connected by a
slight descent with another and loftier peak, the mountain of Oudji,
upon which the most delicate tea is grown.
The western orchard, the scene of the poetical tourney presided over
by the Kisaki, lay in the path of the Prince. He leaped the fence and
crossed the orchard, this being the shortest way. The trees were loaded
with fruit, the over-burdened boughs bending to the ground.
The Prince paused at the brink of the terrace, where the city lay
in full view, just at the spot where the Queen had approached him a
few months before, and spoken to him with tears in her eyes. He cast
a rapid glance at Kioto. From various points rose a column of black
smoke, which was also visible within the precincts of the Dairi. The
palace and city must, therefore, have been set on fire. The fortress of
Nisio-Nosiro, on Wild Goose River, was besieged; the Knights of Heaven
were doubtless defending it. The Mikado must have taken refuge behind
its ramparts. Farther off, on the other side of the town, a fight was
going on between Yama-Kava's men and the soldiers of Hieyas. The latter
were almost masters of Kioto. Yama-Kava still held the eastern portion
of the city; but Hieyas' banner floated from every other point.
The Prince of Nagato, with frowning brow, devoured the scene spread
out at his feet. He bit his lips till they bled; full of wrath, he
preserved his clearness of judgment, and coolly examined the situation.
When a conflict occurs in a city, the combatants are perforce
scattered. The plan of the streets, their lack of breadth, necessitates
a division of numbers. The battle is parcelled out; there is no unity
of movement; each street and square has its individual contest,
ignoring the phases of those close by.
The Prince of Nagato instantly saw the advantage to be gained from this
disposition of the battle. His little troop, nothing on the plain,
where its weakness would be apparent, might produce a happy effect by
an impetuous dash, taking the enemy unawares in the rear, and possibly
causing confusion in the ranks.
The Prince decided quickly, uttered a shout to rally his men, who had
managed to join him by dint of much pains; then he spurred his horse
down the opposite slope of the high hill, and cried: "Follow me!"
The descent was most dangerous; but the energy of the men seemed to be
communicated to their steeds. They reached the bottom without accident;
then plunged with frightful speed into the street most crowded with
soldiers.
The sound made by the sudden tramp of horses' hoofs upon the paved
road was tremendous. The soldiers turned, saw the street filled with
cavalry, and with the instinctive dread which men on foot feel for men
on horseback, they strove to keep out of the way; pushing and stumbling
over each other, in an attempt to reach a cross street. The riders
fired a few shots, which only hastened the flight of the pedestrians.
In the twinkling of an eye the street was emptied; and the fugitives
spread terror as they ran, supposing that they were trapped between two
armies.
The street entered by Nagato was very long, traversing almost the
entire town, and ending in a small square. At the other extremity, the
streets opening into it were occupied by Yama-Kava's soldiers. Upon the
square itself the enemy had centred their forces.
The conflict had but just begun. Although inferior in numbers, the
partisans of Fide-Yori did not flinch. At the mouth of the square the
Prince halted; he was master of the street; it was important to keep it.
"Let twenty men defend the other end of this street," he cried, "and
two men station themselves at every alley opening into it. Now we must
let Yama-Kava's soldiers know that they are to make an effort to join
us."
Raiden sprang forward. A hailstorm of arrows wrapped, him round; his
horse fell; the sailor rose; he was wounded; but he managed to reach
the other side of the square. A discharge of musketry rattled, and
picked off a number of men. An empty space was formed in front of the
street occupied by the Prince; the hostile troops gathered about their
leaders, to devise measures; and they decided to abandon the square and
fall back upon the neighboring streets. They executed this movement,
which was almost a retreat.
Nothing was easier now for Yama-Kava's men than to effect a junction
with those of Nagato. The former crossed the square in double-quick
time, and gained the conquered street. Soon their General himself
appeared, on horseback, masked, clad in his armor of black shell, lance
in hand.
"It is the lord of Nagato!" he exclaimed, as he recognized the Prince.
"I am no longer amazed to see the enemy so roughly repulsed. Victory
seems to be your slave."
"If it be true that I have her in my chains, may she never recover her
liberty!" said the Prince. "What is going on here?" he added. "What
sacrilege, what unprecedented crime, do we behold?"
"Incredible indeed," said the General. "Hieyas proposes to carry off
the Mikado, and burn the town."
"For what purpose?"
"I do not know."
"I think I can guess," said the Prince; "the Mikado, once in his power,
would be forced to proclaim Hieyas Shogun; the entire nation would
declare itself for Hieyas, and Fide-Yori would be obliged to lay down
his arms."
"There is no limit to that man's audacity!"
"Where is the Mikado now?" asked the Prince.
"In the fortress of Nisio-Nosiro."
"So I supposed; and I fancy that you and I have hit upon the same plan
of battle."
"You honor me," said the General.
"You mean to spread your army, I fancy, from this street, like a lake
becoming a river, and surround the foe. In this way the enemy will
be cut off from the shores of the Kamon-Gawa, and the attack on the
fortress, of scanty numbers, as it seems to me, will be isolated. You
will then fall back upon the fortress and seek shelter within its
walls."
"That was indeed my intention," said the General; "but without your
help I fear I should have failed to force my way through the hostile
ranks."
"Well, now lead your men towards the fortress, while I hold our
adversaries here as long as possible."
The General set off. The soldiers of Hieyas returned. The nascent panic
was allayed. From every lane on the left they attacked the street which
separated them from the river; they were received with volleys of shot
and arrows. They retreated; then returned to the charge.
"We must barricade those alleys," said the Prince.
"With what?"
The hermetically closed houses seemed dead. Their mute, blind aspect
showed that it would be useless to knock; for it would awake no echo in
the soul of the terrified inhabitants. The blinds were wrenched from
their hinges, the windows broken open, the houses entered. A sort of
pillage began; everything was thrown into the street,--screens, bronze
vases, lacquer chests, mattresses, and lanterns. With astonishing
rapidity all this was heaped up pell-mell at the mouth of the different
lanes. A tea-merchant was entirely stripped; all the exquisite
varieties of the aromatic herb, wrapped in silk paper, in leaden boxes,
or in valuable caskets, went to swell the pile, and were offered to the
ravages of arrows and shot. The air was filled with perfume.
The enemy fought furiously, but could not cross the street. In the
direction of the river was heard the sound of another conflict raging
there. The Prince sent one of his men that way, saying: "Come and tell
us as soon as Yama-Kava wins."
The struggle now became desperate; several barricades were forced; men
fought hand to hand in the street filled with dust and smoke.
"Courage, courage!" shouted Nagato to his troops; "a moment more!"
At last the messenger returned.
"Victory!" he cried; "Yama-Kava has crossed the river."
Then Nagato's men began to fall back. Yama-Kava, protected by the
Knights of Heaven, who overwhelmed his assailants with arrows from
the top of the towers, entered the fortress with his five thousand
soldiers. The Mikado was thenceforth out of danger; seven thousand
men behind the ramparts being fully equal to the ten thousand exposed
troops of the hostile General. The latter, filled with wrath, his
orders unheeded, seeing the mistake he had made by involving his men in
the labyrinth of streets, sprang to the head of his troops, to inspire
them with fresh courage, force the passage so bravely defended, and
reach the banks of the Kamon-Gawa.
He found himself face to face with the Prince of Nagato; both were on
horseback. They gazed at each other for an instant.
"It is you, then," cried the Prince, "who serve as the instrument of
a crime so odious that it seems incredible! It is you who have the
impudence to raise your hand against the divine Mikado!"
For his only answer, the General flung a dart at Nagato, which grazed
his sleeve. The Prince responded by a shot, fired at close range. The
warrior fell upon his horse's neck without a sound,--to rise no more.
The news of his death spread quickly; the soldiers, left without a
leader, wavered.
"His sacrilegious daring brought him ill luck," said they; "it may well
be fatal to us too."
The Prince, who noted this hesitation and the vague remorse springing
up in the souls of the soldiers, hit upon a scheme adapted to render
the victory decisive if it produced the effect which he expected. He
ran to the brink of the Wild Goose River, and shouted to the soldiers
who guarded the fortress: "Lead the Mikado to the top of the tower."
His idea was caught. Go-Mitzou-No was sought in all haste, and
conducted by force, more dead than alive, to the highest tower of the
castle.
The Sun Goddess seemed to cast all her rays upon that divine man, who
was fully her peer. The Mikado's red robes shone resplendent; the lofty
sheet of gold which formed, his crown gleamed upon his brow.
"The Son of the Gods! the Son of the Gods!" was the universal shout.
The soldiers raised their heads; they saw that dazzling mass of purple
and gold at the top of the tower,--the man whom they were forbidden to
behold, the man surrounded by an awful spell, and whom they had just
outraged. They thought that the Mikado was about to take his flight and
leave earth behind forever, in punishment of the wickedness of men.
They threw down their arms and fell upon their knees.
"Mercy!" they cried; "do not desert us! What will become of us without
you?"
"Sublime lord! all-powerful master! we are base wretches; but thy
goodness is infinite!"
"We will abase ourselves in the dust; we will moisten it with the tears
of our repentance."
Then they burst into invectives against their leaders.
"They drove us to it, they led us astray!" "They intoxicated us with
saki, to take away our senses!" "The General paid for his crime with
his life!" "Let him be accursed!" "May he be devoured by foxes!" "May
the great judge of hell be pitiless towards him!"
The Mikado's eyes wandered over the city; he saw smoke rising on every
hand. He extended his arm, and pointed with his finger to the burning
buildings.
The soldiers below imagined this gesture to be an order; they rose and
flew to extinguish the flames which they themselves had kindled.
The victory was complete. The Prince of Nagato smiled as he saw how
exactly the Mikado's appearance had answered his anticipations.
But all at once, just as he was about to step upon the drawbridge and
enter the fortress in his turn, frantic servants came running along the
banks of the Kamon-Gawa.
"The Queen!" they cried; "they are carrying off the Queen!"
"What say you?" exclaimed the Prince, turning pale. "Then the Queen is
not in the fortress?"
"She had no time to seek refuge there, she is at the summer-palace."
Without staying to hear more, 'Nagato sprang like an arrow in the
direction of the palace, followed by such of his soldiers as were
left,--scarcely fifty able-bodied men.
But they soon lost sight of the Prince; and, not knowing their way,
went astray.
Nagato quickly reached the door of the summer-palace. Pages stood at
the threshold.
"That way! that way!" they cried to the Prince, pointing to the road
which led to the base of the mountains.
Nagato turned and put the spurs to his horse. Unfortunately the road
was bordered by trees, and was very winding, so that he could see but a
short distance before him. Nothing was visible. His horse reared, and
sprang forward. To lighten its load, he throw away his gun.
After ten minutes of this mad race he saw the hind-quarters of a horse
in a cloud of dust. The Prince was gaining ground; he soon saw a
floating veil, and a man, who turned his head in alarm.
"What man is that who dares clasp her in his arms?" thought Nagato,
gnashing his teeth.
The despoiler plunged into a valley; the Prince was dose upon him. The
man, seeing that all was lost, slipped down from his horse and escaped
on foot, leaving the Queen behind.
The Prince thought he recognized in the fugitive Faxibo, the groom
promoted to be the confidant of Hieyas.
It was indeed he. This rogue, who respected nothing, seeing that the
day was lost and the Mikado out of reach, thought of the Kisaki, alone
and defenceless in the summer-palace; he at once realized the value
of such a prize, and resolved to carry off his sovereign. He entered
the palace, on the plea of being an envoy from Yama-Kava. He was on
horseback; the Queen stepped forward on the balcony. He instantly
seized her, and fled before the servants had recovered from their
surprise.
The Prince had no time to pursue Faxibo, as the horse which bore the
Queen continued to run.
Nagato rushed after her and caught her in his arms; she had fainted.
He carried her into the shade of a tea-shrub, and laid her on the
grass; then he dropped upon one knee, trembling with emotion,
desperate, and distracted. The furious course which he had just run,
the fatigue of the fight, and his sleepless night, clouded his mind.
He thought that he was dreaming; he gazed at the being who had never
ceased to occupy his every thought, and blessed the illusion which led
him to fancy her beside him.
Lying in a careless, graceful position, very pale, her head thrown
back, her body swathed in a lilac crape robe whose folds were stirred
by the rapid palpitations of her heart, she seemed asleep. Her sleeve
was slightly disarranged, revealing her arm; her little hand, stretched
out upon the grass, palm uppermost, looked like a water-lily.
"What supreme beauty!" thought the enraptured Prince; "assuredly the
Goddess of the Sun could be no more resplendent! Light seems to radiate
from her white skin; her mouth is crimsoned with the life-blood of a
flower; her large eyes, beneath their long black lashes, are like two
swallows drowned in milk. Do not fade, celestial vision! Remain ever
thus: my eyes are riveted upon thee!"
Gradually a sense of reality returned to him; he remembered that she
was suffering, while he forgot to aid her. But what could he do? He
looked around him for a brook or waterfall; he saw nothing. Then he
opened his fan and waved it gently above the Queen's face. She remained
motionless. The Prince took her hand, thinking that she might be cold;
but he sprang quickly to his feet and started back, alarmed by the deep
agitation which the touch of those soft warm fingers aroused in his
bosom. He called; no one replied. Those who had followed him in pursuit
of the Queen's abductor, instead of turning into the valley, had kept
straight on.
Nagato returned to the Kisaki; it seemed to him that she stirred. He
knelt beside her once more, and gazed into her face. She opened her
eyes; then shut them again, as if dazzled by the light. The Prince bent
over her. "Beloved Queen," he sighed, "revive! revive!" She opened
her eyes a second time, and saw the Prince. Then an enchanting smile
hovered upon her lips. A bird sang above them.
"Is it you, Iwakura?" she said, in a faint voice; "have you come back
to me at last? You see that death is merciful, and has reunited us!"
"Alas!" said the Prince, "we still live."
The Kisaki sat up, and leaning on one hand, looked all about her,
striving to recollect what had happened; then her eyes returned to
Nagato.
"Did not some man tear me from my palace, and carry me brutally away?"
she asked.
"A miserable wretch did indeed commit that crime, worthy of a thousand
deaths."
"What did he mean to do with me?"
"He meant to imprison you, so that he might impose his own terms on the
Mikado."
"Villain!" cried the Queen. "I can guess the rest," she added: "you
pursued my ravisher, and rescued me. I am not surprised. I called upon
you in the midst of my danger! Just now, when I lost consciousness, I
thought of you; I invoked your aid."
With these words the Kisaki cast down her eyes and turned away her
head, as if ashamed of such an avowal.
"Oh! I conjure you," cried the Prince, "do not take back those words;
do not repent that you pronounced them!"
The Kisaki raised her large eyes to the Prince with a prolonged gaze.
"I do not repent," she said. "I love you; I acknowledge it proudly.
My love is as pure as a star; I have no cause to conceal it. I have
reflected much in your absence. I was terrified by the feeling which
took deeper possession of me daily; I considered myself criminal; I
strove to conquer my heart, to silence my thoughts; but to no avail.
Can the flower refuse to bud and bloom,--the star refuse to shine? Can
the night rebel when day triumphs over it, as you have triumphed over
my soul?"
"Do I hear aright? Do lips like yours address such words to me?"
exclaimed the Prince. "You love me! you, the Daughter of the Gods! Then
let me bear you hence; let us fly from the kingdom to some distant land
which will be a paradise. You are mine if you love me. I have been
so miserable! Now my happiness weighs me to the ground. Come, let us
hasten; life is too short to hold such bliss."
"Prince," said the Queen, "the confession which I have made to you,
being what I am, should show you how far my love is removed from
earthly thoughts. I do not belong to myself in this world; I am a wife;
I am a sovereign; no guilty deed can ever be committed by me. My soul
surrenders itself to you, against my will; could I hide it from you?
But if I spoke to-day, it was merely because we shall never meet again
on earth."
"Never meet again!" cried the Prince, in horror. "Why do you say
so cruel a thing? Why, after opening heaven to my gaze for a brief
instant, do you hurl me suddenly down to the torments of hell? To be
deprived of your presence will as surely kill me as to be deprived of
light and air."
Nagato covered his face, to hide the tears which he could not restrain.
But the Queen gently drew his hands aside, saying: "Do not weep. What
is life? A trifle by the side of eternity. We shall meet again, I am
very sure."
"But if death deceive us," said the Prince; "if life ends in
annihilation; if all is over with the last sigh?"
"That is impossible," she answered with a smile, "because my love is
infinite."
"It is well," said the Prince; "I will kill myself."
"Swear that you will do nothing of the kind!" exclaimed the Kisaki.
"What do we know of the will of Heaven? We may not have the right to
escape our destiny; and if we do not yield to it, we may be forced to
return to earth.".
"But it is impossible; I cannot endure to live!" said the Prince. "Do
you not see how I suffer? You say you love me, and you torture me thus!"
"Do you think I do not suffer too? I swear to you that I will die of my
love without taking refuge in suicide."
The Prince had thrown himself upon the sod, his face in the grass;
convulsive sobs shook his frame.
"You drive me to despair, Iwakura!" cried the Queen; "all my strength
will vanish before your grief. I am but a woman in your presence; my
will is no longer supreme. What must I do to dry your tears?"
"Allow me to see you from time to time as heretofore," said the Prince;
"then only can I consent to wait for death."
"Meet again after what I have told you!"
"I will forget it, if need be, divine friend; I will remain your humble
and submissive servant. No word or look shall ever betray the just
pride which fills my soul."
The Queen smiled as she saw happiness once more illumine the still
moist eyes of the Prince. "You have vanquished me," said she; "and yet
I thought my resolution fixed. May I never be punished for my weakness!"
"Punished! For what?" said the Prince. "What evil do we commit? Are not
all the nobles of the Court admitted to your presence? Should I alone
be exiled because I am blind to everything but your beauty? Would not
that be unjust?"
"It would be wise and prudent," said the Queen, sighing, "But I have
yielded; let us say no more about it, but return to the palace," she
added; "my people must be seeking for me still. We must let them know
that I am safe."
"Oh, stay one moment more!" murmured the Prince; "we shall never again
meet as now, in the midst of Nature, alone, far from every eye. Civil
war, crime, and sacrilege were required to bring about this condition
of things. To-morrow all the ceremony of your rank will surround you
once more; I can only address you from afar."
"Who knows what may happen yet?" said the Queen.
"The Mikado sought refuge in the fortress, which was at once surrounded
by soldiers; I was forced to remain in the summer-palace. All this has
happened since morning. The rebels had the upper hand--"
"But since then they have been completely conquered," said the Prince;
"the hostile General is killed, and his army has surrendered; the
Mikado is free. But let us not talk of that. What matters the war? Tell
me: how long have you loved me?"
"Ever since I knew you," said the Kisaki, casting down her eyes. "I
never suspected it, until jealousy revealed my love to me."
"You jealous!"
"Yes, and madly. I felt a strange and constant pain; I could not sleep;
all pleasures annoyed me. I gave way to my anger continually, and I
abused my women. The one whom I thought you loved, I loathed. One
evening I drove her from my presence because she betrayed her love by
an exclamation on seeing you leaning against a tree. I returned to my
palace. I can see you still in the moonlight, pale, with burning eyes."
"Did you not see that I looked at you alone?"
"No; and all night long I wept in silence."
"Oh, do not drive me mad!" cried the Prince.
"You see," said she, "I conceal nothing from you; I lay my heart bare
before you, confident of your loyalty."
"I am worthy of your confidence," said the Prince; "my love is as pure
as your own."
"A few days later," continued the Queen, "you knelt before me in
the audience-chamber. Surprised at your emotion, I permitted myself
to speak of my maid-of-honor. You cried out that you did not love
her, casting upon me a look in which all your soul was visible. Do
you remember what a scornful, angry air I assumed? If you knew what
ineffable joy overwhelmed me: the gazelle seized in the tiger's claws,
then let suddenly loose, must feel something of my sensations. I knew
then that it was I whom you loved; your look and your emotion told me
so. When I left you, I hurried into the gardens and wrote the verses
which I gave you so indifferently.
"They lie here upon my heart," said the Prince; "they never leave me."
"Do you recognize this?" said the Kisaki, showing the Prince a fan
thrust into the girdle of silver brocade which encircled her waist.
"No," said Nagato; "what may that be?"
She took out the fan, and opened it. It was of white paper, sprinkled
with gold. In one corner was a tuft of reeds and two storks flying
over; at the other end were four lines of poetry, written in Chinese
characters.
"The thing which we love more than all else, we prefer that no one
else should love.
It belongs to another.
So the willow, which takes root in our garden,
Bends, blown by the wind, and adorns our neighbor's wall with
its branches."
"Those are the verses which I wrote in the western orchard!" cried the
Prince. "Have you preserved that fan?"
"I never use any other," said the Kisaki.
They broke into pleased laughter, forgetful of their past sufferings,
dwelling with delight on this moment of happiness. The Queen no longer
spoke of returning to the palace.
"If you were my brother!" she suddenly exclaimed; "if I might pass my
life in your society without giving rise to slander, how swiftly the
days would pass."
"And you wanted to drive me from you, cruel one!"
"The queen issued that order; before your tears the woman could not
obey! But tell me now, how did you happen to fall in love with me?"
"I have long loved you," said the Prince. "My love was born before you
ever saw me. When my father abdicated in my favor, I came to take the
oath of allegiance to the Mikado. As I left the audience-chamber, you
passed by me on the balcony. I thought it was Ten-Sio-Dai-Tsin herself;
I was mute with surprise and admiration. Your eyes were lowered; your
long lashes cast a shadow on your cheeks. I can see you now, if I close
my eyes. A white peacock was embroidered on your robe; lotos-blossoms
decked your hair; your hand, hanging by your side, negligently-waved
a fan of pheasant-plumes. It was only a flash: you disappeared; but
thenceforth I lived but for you.--I did not return to the palace until
a year later."
"It was then I first saw you," said the Queen. "Every one was talking
of you; my women never wearied of the theme; your praises were on every
lip. I was curious to see the hero to whom every virtue was attributed,
who was adorned with every grace. Hidden behind a blind, I watched you
as you crossed the great courtyard of the Dairi. I thought that rumor
did not do you justice; and I moved away, strangely agitated."
"As for me, I left the palace without seeing you again; I was a prey
to gloomy sorrow. For a year I had patiently awaited the moment when I
hoped I might catch another glimpse of you; and the year's delay ended
in disappointment. I could not help coming back a few days later; on
this occasion I was admitted to a festival at which you were present.
It was then that I perceived the interest felt for me by Fatkoura, and
formed the wicked scheme of concealing the overwhelming passion which
possessed me behind a feigned love."
"How she must suffer, unfortunate girl, to love, and not be loved in
return!" said the Kisaki. "I pity her with all my heart. Where is she
now?"
"At my castle of Hagui, with my father. I have sent a messenger thither
to bring me the latest tidings in regard to events there. My father
must think me dead; for you probably do not know that my kingdom has
been pillaged, my fortress taken, and my head cut off. But what do
I care? I would give my kingdom and the whole world just to see the
pretty dimple at the corner of your mouth when you smile."
"Ah!" said the Queen, "I, too, would cheerfully give up my crown, and
all the splendors that surround me, to be your wife and live with you.
But do not let us think of what is impossible," she added; "let us
remember that our hope lies beyond the limits of this world." Saying
this, she raised her eyes to heaven.
"Look, friend!" she exclaimed; "see those clouds lit up by rosy
reflections; the sun is setting already. Is it possible!"
"Alas!" said the Prince; "then we must return to the haunts of men."
"Do not be too sad," she whispered; "for we shall meet again."
The Prince rose, and went in search of the horses. The one which he
had ridden lay dead from exhaustion; the other, being very weary, had
halted a few paces away. He led it back to the Queen, and helped her
into the saddle; then he cast a last regretful glance at the valley
which he was about to leave. With a deep sigh he took the horse by the
bridle and led it over the turf.
Just as the Kisaki and the Prince left, the bush which had shaded them
rustled, and a man who had been hidden behind it ran off.