A terrible uproar filled the castle. Within, were dismay, continual coming and going, shouts and cries; without, uninterrupted blows. Tika ran in search of news; returned; then started out again. On the third day, the soldiers suddenly rushed to one point: a breach was effected. Cries of discouragement rose on all sides. "Better surrender." "We can't hold out long." "We are lost." Towards noon the Prince of Tosa entered Fatkoura's room abruptly. She was standing by the window, looking out; her face was radiant with joy. She turned, and saw her enemy gazing at her with folded arms. A sort of instinctive terror took possession of her as she beheld him. He was pale, with a sinister expression. In his right hand he grasped a bloody sword, which dripped upon the floor. He quietly returned it to his belt. "The battle is lost," he said, with a scowl; "I am conquered." "The man whom you thought to dishonor is at your gates, and comes to chastise your crimes," said Fatkoura. "Ah! You know that Nagato is not dead," cried the Prince. "But what does it matter? He is there, it is true; he comes to deliver you: but before he takes you back," he added, in tones of thunder, "before he crosses the crumbling walls of my castle,--mark me well!--you shall be mine." Fatkoura sprang back, and darted to the farthest corner of the room. "You may fancy," continued Tosa, "that I did not abandon the field for nothing. The victors are at my heels; there is no time to be lost in idle entreaties." As he said this he sprang towards her. "Help!" she shrieked in an agonized voice; "Tika, help! Nagato, come to my rescue!" Tosa laid his hand upon her mouth. "What's the use of shrieking?" said he; "nobody will come. Submit! for you are mine at last; you shall not escape me now." He encircled her with his arms; but all at once he saw something gleam above him. Fatkoura had snatched a dagger from the Prince's belt. "You are wrong; I shall escape you yet once again," said she. "My last thought is for you, Iwakura!" Tosa uttered a loud cry. He saw the dagger buried to the hilt in the young woman's breast; then she drew it out and threw it to the ground. At that instant the panel which closed the entrance flew in splinters. The Prince of Nagato, sword in hand, rushed into the room and leaped upon the Prince of Tosa. "Ah, wretch!" he shouted; "you insult your captive and my betrothed! You add this unparalleled crime to all your former misdeeds! But the hour of vengeance is at hand; the earth shall be rid of you!" Tosa had drawn his sword; he struck it against Nagato's blade. But he shuddered; a superstitious fear froze his blood; he felt that he was about to die. Iwakura, with irresistible force, drove him back to the other side of the room, and brought him to a stand against the wall. Tosa, with bloodshot eyes, glared wildly at his foe; he could but ill defend himself. Nagato dashed the sword from his hand.