The moment this spectacle met her eyes, Beatrice of Ferrara called to the armed attendant who had accompanied her chair, and who, like his mistress, had now turned to gaze upon the cavalcade as it passed by. "Quick!" she cried, "follow them quick, Bertrand! follow them quick, and leave them not till you see their prisoner safely lodged. Make sure of the place, and then bring all the tidings you can gather to me." The servant, accustomed to comprehend and to obey at once the orders of a mistress whose mind was itself as rapid as the lightning, sprang from the door, without a word, and, mingling in the crowd, followed the reitters on their way. Beatrice remained in silence till the last had passed, and then, entering her chair, was borne back to her own dwelling. CHAPTER IX. We must now turn to trace the proceedings of Philip Count d'Aubin, who, riding on at full speed, drew not his bridle rein till he reached the magnificent Hotel de Guise; where, pushing through the mingled crowd of attendants and petitioners, that swarmed, round the _porte cochere_ of the dwelling, in which, for the time, resided all the power of Paris, if not of France, he advanced, with hasty steps and abstracted look, to the foot of the great staircase. He had even proceeded some way up the stairs ere he noticed, or even seemed to hear, the reiterated inquiries regarding his name and business, which were addressed to him by the various grooms and porters in his progress. When, at length--called for a moment from his fit of absence--he did condescend to speak, he merely mentioned his name, without indicating in any manner which of the many persons that the house contained was the object of his present visit. Although unacquainted with his person, the valet, who had at length obtained an answer, happening to recall some of the court scandal of former times, instantly, by an association not unnatural, connected the coming of the Count d'Aubin with the presence of the Duchess de Montpensier, the sister of the Duke de Mayenne, in the house at that moment; and he proceeded forthwith to show the Count to her apartments. D'Aubin entered the splendid saloon in which the Duchess was sitting with the same thoughtful and abstracted air which had been left behind by the strong and turbulent passions, that had just been excited in his bosom by his interview with Beatrice of Ferrara. Madame de Montpensier, surrounded by a group of the gay idlers of the capital, who even at that time mingled in their character that degree of levity and ferocity which marked with such dreadful traits the first French revolution, was engaged in the seemingly puerile employment of cutting out a paper crown with a huge pair of scissors, the sheath of which, black, coarse, and disfiguring, was passed through the silken girdle that spanned her beautiful waist.