The answer of each was the same however, namely, that none of them had seen any thing of her. Some had accompanied the Queen and kept the way clear, and two others who, had remained with the chair, as well as the bearers themselves, declared that the young Lady, after having descended from the Queen's chair had gone on; that there was an immediate rush of the people, which separated them from the rest of the royal train; and that what between the pressure and confusion that immediately took place, and the kicking of one of the chargers, which made the people run back with cries and affright, they had seen nothing more of the party to which they had belonged, till they had made their way up to the Hôtel de Guise and obtained admission. The Duke paused with a gloomy and anxious brow. "Go, some one," he said at length, "go up to Philibert of Nancy, who was placed above, to watch what was taking place from the top of the house. Ask him what he saw after the Queen's arrival, and bring me down word." "May I go, my Lord?" demanded Charles of Montsoreau. The Duke nodded his head, and the young nobleman sprang up the stairs, and guided by one of the servants found the watchman, who had been placed at the top of the house to report from time to time whatever occurrences of importance he might perceive in the neighbouring streets. All the information the man could give, however, was, that he had seen a party separate from the rest of the people, almost immediately after the Queen's entrance; that they seemed to be taking great care of some person in the midst of them, who, he fancied, had been hurt by the kicking and plunging of a horse which he had remarked hard by. The party had turned the corner of the street without attracting his attention farther; but, he added, that a moment or two afterwards he thought he had heard a shrill cry coming from the direction which they had taken. With such tidings only, and with his heart more agonised than ever, Charles of Montsoreau returned to the Duke, who was still standing gloomily by the Queen, who, on her part looked up at his dark and frowning countenance with a degree of calmness which did not seem quite so natural as she could have wished. "Whatever has happened, my Lord Duke," she said, after listening to the young nobleman's report, "whatever has happened, on my honour, on my salvation, I have had no share in it; and I promise you most solemnly, not to rest a moment till I have discovered what has become of your ward, and have made you acquainted therewith. If she be in the Court of my son, I make bold to say, that she shall be instantly restored to you: but I cannot believe that it is so, as it is impossible for Villequier to have passed those barriers without being torn to pieces by the people."