From the summit of the hill, Yoke-Moura watched Fide-Yori and his troops march out from Osaka and deploy in the plain. He awaited the Shogun's first offensive movement to attack Hieyas' men. "Certainly," thought the General, "victory is possible. Signenari, who met death so nobly yesterday, did the enemy much injury; I myself repulsed with considerable loss the detachment which attacked my position. We may cut to pieces that division of the army upon which the Shogun pounces. Then the two hostile forces will be almost equal; and with equal numbers we shall surely triumph." Fide-Yori's army halted on the plain, occupying the ground where Signenari's camp had been pitched the day before. "What can they be waiting for?" wondered Yoke-Moura; "why do they pause in their forward movement?" The leaders ran to the flanks of the various battalions. Strange agitation prevailed in the ranks; evidently something new had occurred. They hesitated; they were making plans. All at once the whole army wavered, faced about, and retracing their steps, re-entered the city. "What does that mean?" cried Yoke-Moura, amazed, and pale with rage. "What sudden madness has seized upon them? It is a mockery! Are they cowards?" The soldiers of Hieyas then advanced across the plain abandoned by Fide-Yori. At the same moment Yoke-Moura's men gave the alarm. They were attacked on two sides at once. "It is well," said Yoke-Moura; "all is now lost." He summoned his young son, Daiske. "My son," said he, "return to the city; rejoin the Shogun, and say to him that nothing is left for me now but to die a glorious death for him, as I intend to do before evening. Remain with the master while he lives, and die with him." "Father," said Daiske, casting an imploring look at the General, "I would rather die with you." "Do as I bid you, my son," said Yoke-Moura, his voice trembling slightly. A tear rolled down the boy's cheek; but he made no answer, and went. The General watched him for an instant as he descended the hill, sighed, and then plunged abruptly into the thick of the fight. Without resistance, without exchanging one shaft with the enemy, the Shogun's army had returned to the city in disorder! The people could not believe their own eyes. What had happened? Why should rout precede the battle? This is what really occurred: Harounaga, suddenly abandoning the position which he held on the hill, hastened towards Fide-Yori, accompanied by a man coming from the camp of Hieyas. This man, who was a relative of Hieyas, declared that the majority of the army had gone over to Hieyas, and that when the fight began Fide-Yori would be hemmed in and taken prisoner by his own men. He said that he had surprised this secret, and hastened to warn the Shogun, to prevent his falling into an odious trap. "Return to the fortress," said he to Fide-Yori. "In the shelter of its ramparts you may defend yourself still, and die nobly; while here you are at the victor's mercy."