In order to do this, however, he had to pass close by the Queen-Regent and her consort. It happened that the latter, who till that moment had been wholly occupied by his cares for the recovery of his mistress, had scarcely glanced either at the motionless heap staining the floor with blood or at the wild thing scrambling and biting savagely in the arms of El Sarria. But the girl's struggles were now over for that time. Her fit of demoniacal fury had apparently completely exhausted her. Her head lay back pale and white, the livid lips drawn so as to show the teeth in a ghastly smile, and her whole body drooped, relaxed and flaccid, over her captor's arm. The Queen-Regent was just able once more to stand upon her feet when El Sarria passed with his burden. The eyes of Munoz fell upon the girl's pale distorted features. He started back and almost dropped the Queen in his horror. "Whence came this she-devil?" he cried, "What is she doing here? Let her be locked in a dungeon. Eugene will show you where. She will cut all our throats else!" "Has this child not the honour to be daughter to his Excellency the Duke of Rianzares?" inquired the Sergeant, grimly. "She is a maniac, I tell you! I put her in a madhouse and she escaped! She hath sworn my death!" cried Munoz, his supercilious calm for once quite broken up. "And what is this that she hath done?" he cried, holding up his hands as his eyes fell on the body of the nurse Susana. In another moment, however, he had partially recovered himself. "My beloved lady," he said, turning to his wife, "this is certainly no place for you. Let me conduct you to your own chamber!" "Not without the added presence of one of my people, sir," said Rollo, sternly; "this had not happened but for your intention of secretly deserting us, and leaving us to hold the castle alone against the cruel enemy of whose approach we risked our lives to warn you!" Meanwhile the Queen-Regent had been casting her eyes wildly and uncomprehendingly around. Now she looked at the motionless form of the girl in the arms of El Sarria, now at the dead woman upon the floor, but all without the least token that she understood how the tragedy had come to pass. But suddenly she threw her arms into the air and uttered a wild scream. "Where is my Isabel--where is my daughter? She was in the arms of the nurse Susana who lies there before us. They have killed her also. This devil-born has killed her! Where shall I find her?--My darling--the protected of the Virgin, the future Queen of all the Spains?" But it was a question no one could answer. None had seen the little Isabel, since the moment when she had passed forth through the portal of the palace into the night, clasped in the faithful arms of her nurse. She had not cried. She had not returned. Apparently not a soul had thought of her, save only the woman whose life had been laid down for her sake, as a little common thing is set on a shelf and forgotten.