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.