"I am happy now," said Fatkoura. "I might have died before you came; and I am with you." "But you shall not die!" cried the Prince. "Am I mad, that I stand here, stunned by horror, instead of bringing you help, or having your wound dressed? You are young; you will recover." "Why should?" said Fatkoura. "Would you love me then?" "I would love you then as now, with an infinite affection." "With a brother's love," Fatkoura whispered, with a bitter smile. "Let me die." "Alas! that blood which flows so fast, and bears your life with it!" exclaimed the Prince, frantic with grief. He began to utter frenzied shouts. They were heard. Soldiers and servants rushed in. General Signenari also appeared, still stained with blood from the battle. All stood aside, to let him pass. "What is the matter, Prince?" he cried. "A doctor, for Heaven's sake, and at once!" said Nagato. "My betrothed has stabbed herself, to escape the outrages of the infamous Tosa; she is dying." Fatkoura had fainted. The palace doctor soon came. He bared the wound, and when he saw it, he looked anything but encouraging. "She did not spare herself," he said. "Can she be saved?" asked the Prince of Nagato. The doctor shook his head. "I think not," said he; "the steel went in too deep. If I were to dress the wound, I might stanch the blood; but it would still flow from within, and suffocate her." "And if you do not stanch the wound?" "She will die in a very few moments." The doctor brought the edges of the wound together. As he touched the sensitive spot, Fatkoura never stirred. He shook his head again. "A bad sign," he muttered. When the dressing was done, he forced between the young woman's lips the neck of a small bottle holding a strengthening cordial, and made her drink it. Fatkoura soon re-opened her eyes; she still lay across Nagato's knees. Tika sobbed at her feet. She cast an uneasy look at those who filled the room; with a slow and painful gesture signed to them to go. Signenari dismissed them, and withdrew; only the doctor and Tika remained. "You disobeyed me, Iwakura," said the dying girl in a voice which grew ever weaker; "why did you call in help?" "To save you." "I am lost. Saved, rather," she added; "what should I do in this world?" Spasms seized her; she stretched out her arms; the blood choked her. "Air!" she gasped. Tika flew to open all the windows, and her mistress saw her. "Good-by, Tika," she said; "you see that he was not defeated, that he was not dead! We shall never talk of him again." The girl wept, with her face buried in her hands. Fatkoura raised her eyes to the Prince. "Let me look at you," she said; "it is so long since my eyes have mirrored your image. How handsome you are, my beloved!--You know," she went on, turning to the doctor, "he is my husband. He came to set me free; but Tosa would have outraged me, and I killed myself."