With these words he seized the poor little songster, tore the ribbon from its foot, and hurled it against the wall. Happily, the bird used its wings, and saved itself from being killed; it fell to the floor indeed, but soon started up again and mingled with its companions, uttering soft, plaintive notes. The little Prince, horror-stricken, could not take his eyes from his feathered friend. He had not been able to repress a cry at the cruel act, but did not dare to show any concern or sympathy, for fear of making matters worse. Poor child! as a result of this unlucky visit, all the birds that had afforded him so much innocent pleasure were ruthlessly taken away from him. It had been indeed too pleasant to last! Simon’s fear that he might be blamed for allowing the creatures in the prison increased his resentment against the Dauphin, and he nursed his wrath until he could find an outlet for it. The opportunity soon came. The next day he happened to take a foot-bath, and, as it was very agreeable to him to be waited on by a King’s son, he ordered the boy to warm the linen for drying his feet. Trembling with fear of his brutal jailer, the poor child obeyed with more haste than dexterity, and in his agitation dropped a towel into the fire. The cobbler’s feet were in the water, and, foaming with rage at his inability to reach the child, he hurled the most frightful imprecations at him. After a few moments, the Dauphin, thinking his master’s fury had passed, knelt down to dry Simon’s feet, and the monster profited by this opportunity to give him a kick that sent him half across the room and stretched him on the floor. As if stunned by the shock, the poor child lay there motionless; but, not content with this, the cobbler beat and kicked him, overwhelming him at the same time with the vilest epithets until his breath gave out. Then, seeing that his victim was still conscious and able to move, he ordered him to stand up; and the poor little Prince was obliged to rise and drag himself into a corner, where he was suffered to remain, weeping piteously. [Illustration: _The Cobbler and his little victim_] The jailer grew more vindictive every day, his passions more malignant; and his temper was not improved when his wife became so dangerously ill that the services of a physician were required. A surgeon named Nautin, a worthy, respectable man, was called in, prescribed a remedy, and promised to come again the next day. As he was leaving, he passed through the room where Simon sat with his charge and some of the municipal officers. The boy had refused to sing a licentious song as Simon had ordered, and, just as the surgeon entered, the cobbler flung himself upon the child, lifted him up by the hair and shook him, shouting furiously: “Accursed viper! I have a mind to dash you to pieces against the wall!” The doctor hastened to the spot and snatched the Dauphin from Simon’s grasp, crying angrily: “Villain, what are you doing?”