With a breaking heart, the Queen submitted. Summoning all her fortitude, she seated herself on a chair, laid both her thin white hands on the shoulders of the unhappy child, and, forcing herself to be calm, said to him in a solemn, earnest voice: “My child, we must part. Remember your oath when I am no longer with you to remind you of it. Never forget the dear God who has sent you this trial, nor the dear mother who loves you. Be prudent, brave, and patient, and your father will look down from Heaven and bless you.” So speaking, she pressed a last kiss on his forehead, clasped him once more to her tortured heart, and gave him to his jailers. The poor child sprang away from them, rushed to his mother again, and clung desperately to her dress, clasping her knees. She tried to soothe his distress. “You must obey, my child, you must!” she said. “Yes, and I hope you have no more instructions to give him,” added one of the deputies. “You have abused our patience enough already.” “As it is, you might have saved yourself the trouble of giving him any,” said another, dragging the Prince forcibly out of the room. A third, somewhat more humane than the others, added, “You need not have any further anxiety; the great and generous country will care for him.” Heaven was witness what tears of anguish, what cries of despair, followed this distressing scene. In the extremity of her sufferings, the unfortunate mother writhed upon the bed where her son had just been sleeping. She had succeeded in maintaining her courage and a feigned composure in the presence of the merciless wretches who had robbed her of her child, but this unnatural strength, this superhuman exertion, had exhausted all the powers of her being and almost deprived her of reason. Never was there a greater despair than that of this most unhappy Queen and her companions. The three prisoners gazed at one another in speechless agony, and could find no words of consolation. The only comfort of their wretched life was gone. The little Dauphin had been the one ray of sunlight in the darkness of their imprisonment, and that now had been extinguished. What more could follow? Alas! even worse was yet to come, for the resources of inhumanity are boundless! Chapter V The Cobbler Simon Guarded by six deputies and a turnkey, the young Prince, or rather King, since he was the only and lawful heir to the throne, was taken to that part of the Tower formerly occupied by his father. There a guardian was awaiting him, a cruel, tyrannical master, the cobbler Simon. The room was poorly lighted. After conversing with this man for some time in an undertone, the deputies gave him some final instructions and withdrew, and the child found himself alone with Simon, whose slouching gait, rough and violent language, and arrogant manner, easily proclaimed him the future master of the unfortunate Prince.