After his departure, Gomin hastened to procure more comforts for the Prince, and took pains to see that he had a light in his room at night, for which the poor child was very grateful. He was not allowed to see his sister, Marie Thérèse, however, as the government had strictly forbidden it. But all the care and attention of his jailers could not save him from being attacked by a bad fever, and unfortunately the deputies were not all so considerate as the rough but kindly Delboy. Some of them terrified him by harsh threats and insults, which by no means improved his condition. One man, named Careaux, to whom Gomin applied for permission to send for a physician for the sick child, had the heartless insolence to reply: “Pah! never mind him. There are plenty of children dying all the time who are of more consequence than he!” A day or two afterward, Gomin was painfully surprised to hear the poor boy, muttering to himself, repeat the words, “Many children die who are of more consequence!” and from this time he sank into a state of the deepest melancholy and failed rapidly. It was with difficulty that Gomin could induce him to go up to the roof of the Tower, even when he had the strength; and soon, indeed, his feet could no longer support him, and his jailers were obliged to carry him up in their arms. The disease made such terrible progress in a few days that the government finally felt it necessary to send a deputation to the Temple to inquire into the condition of the prisoner. Nothing came of it, however. No physician was summoned, no remedies applied, and the Dauphin was left to sink slowly into the grave. It was plain that his death had been determined on by the government, and disease was allowed to finish the work which that unspeakable wretch, the cobbler Simon, had begun so well. Gomin still had hope, nevertheless, and used every means in his power to add to the child’s small pleasures and recreations. He found some books, which the Prince read eagerly; and, through an acquaintance named Debierne, obtained a turtle-dove for him, but it did not live long. They often played draughts together; the Prince did not understand the game very well, but the kind-hearted jailer always contrived to let his small opponent win. Shuttlecock, too, was a favorite amusement when the child’s strength permitted, and at this he proved very skilful. His eye was sure, his hand quick, and he always rested the left one lightly on his hip while the right was busy with the battledore.