On the ninth of November, 1794, a second jailer arrived—a man named Gomin, who, like Laurent, was kind and tender-hearted. It was settled between them that they should share the same room, an arrangement which suited Laurent very well, since it gave him more freedom; and both men exerted themselves to make their little captive’s dull days as cheerful as possible. They would have done even more for him had they not been restrained by the presence of a deputy, who was required to share their guard over the Dauphin. These deputies were frequently changed. If the choice of their superiors happened to fall on a man who was friendly and obliging, Laurent and Gomin could usually obtain small favors from him. Thus, on the third day after his arrival in the Temple, Gomin made use of the good-will of a deputy named Bresson to obtain for the Prince four plants in pots, all in full bloom. The sight of these flowers was a most wonderful surprise to the poor child, and his eyes filled with tears of joy and happiness. He went around and around them, as if intoxicated with delight, clasped them in his arms, and inhaled their fragrance. He devoured them with his eyes, examined every blossom, and finally picked one. Then he looked at Gomin with a troubled expression; an innocent, childish memory trembled in his heart. He thought of his mother! Alas, poor child! For her no more should earthly flowers bloom, nor wert thou ever to be permitted to lay a blossom on her grave! Soon after this, a deputy named Delboy came to the Temple. He was coarse and uncouth in appearance, and had a gruff, harsh voice. With an air of brutality, he opened all the prison doors, and behaved in a rude and boorish manner; but under this rough exterior was concealed a softness of heart and highmindedness that greatly surprised the little prisoner. “Why this miserable food?” he said one day, glancing at the Dauphin’s scanty meal. “If he were in the Tuileries, we might question what he had to eat—but here in our hands! We should be merciful to him; the nation is magnanimous! What are these shutters for? Under the government of the people, the sun shines for all, and this child is entitled to his share of it. Why should a brother be prevented from seeing his sister? Our watchword is fraternity!” The Prince gazed at him in open-eyed astonishment, and followed every movement of this rough stranger, whose friendly words were such a contrast to his forbidding aspect. “Is it not so, my boy,” continued the deputy; “would you not be very happy if you could play with your sister? I do not see why the nation should remember your origin if you forget it.” Then, turning to Laurent and Gomin, he added: “It is not his fault that he is the son of a King. He is only a child—an unfortunate one, too—and should not be treated so harshly. He is, at least, a human being; and is not France the mother of all her children?”