General Almonte hastened back into the empress's room.
The unhappy princess had sunk on her knees in the middle of the salon, her left hand was pressed to her heart, her right stretched upwards, and with upturned eyes she stared vacantly at the ceiling--a statue of despair.
The general hastened to her.
"For God's sake," he cried, bending over her, "I conjure your majesty, calm, collect yourself! What has happened?"
A slight shiver passed through her limbs, she slowly turned her eyes towards the general, she looked at him with surprise, passed her hand over her brow, and allowed him to raise her, and lead her to the sofa. A lady in waiting had entered in great anxiety, and assisted the general, the lacquey stood with a frightened face at the door of the ante-room.
Suddenly the empress rose, her eyes wandered round the room. "Where is he?" she cried in a hoarse voice, "he has gone, he must not go. I will dog his heels, day and night my shrieks for revenge shall pierce his ears!"
"Your majesty!" cried the general.
"Away!" screamed the empress, "leave me: my carriage, my carriage; after him, the traitor, my husband's murderer!"
And she tore herself free from the general, and the lady in attendance, rushed through the anteroom and down the stairs, still crying, "My carriage! my carriage!"
The general hastened after her. The servant followed.