With a quick motion he held up his feeble hand, his blue eyes shining with rapture, while Gomin, not wishing to dispel this last sweet illusion of the dying child, made a pious effort to hear what could not be heard, and pretended to be listening to the music. In a few moments the Prince raised himself suddenly and cried out in an ecstasy of joy: “Oh! among all those voices I can hear my mother’s!” and as this holy name escaped the orphan’s lips, all his pain and sorrow seemed to disappear. His eyebrows, drawn with suffering, relaxed and his eyes sparkled with the light of victory and freedom. But the radiance of his glance was soon dimmed; the old worn look came back to his face and he sank back, his hands crossed meekly on his breast. Gomin watched him closely and followed all his movements with anxious eyes. His breathing was not more difficult, but his eyes wandered about vacantly and absently, and were often fixed on the window. Gomin asked if anything troubled him, but he did not seem to hear even when the question was repeated, and made no reply. Lasne came soon after to relieve Gomin, who left his little friend with a heavy heart, although he did not realize the end was so near. Lasne sat by the bed for a long time in silence, the Prince gazing at him sorrowfully; but when he moved a little, Lasne asked him how he felt and whether he wanted anything. Instead of replying, he asked abruptly: “Do you think my sister could hear the music? It would make her so happy!” Lasne could not answer this. The yearning eyes of the dying boy, dark with the anguish of death, were turned toward the window. Suddenly a cry of joy escaped him; then, turning to Lasne, he said: “I have something to tell you.” The jailer took his hand—the little head drooped upon his breast—he listened, but in vain. The last word had been spoken! God had spared the little Dauphin the last agonizing death-struggle, and in a last dream of joy and rapture had taken him to His loving arms! Lasne laid his hand gently on the child’s heart, but it no longer beat. That troubled heart was quiet now. The little Dauphin had exchanged his sorrowful earthly dwelling for the eternal peace and happiness of Heaven—had found his loved ones and his God.[22] * * * * * * * * Only a few more words, gentle reader. I have unrolled a sad picture before you, and, however much it may have excited your sympathy, it could not be softened, for from beginning to end it is the truth and only the truth. The little Dauphin, Louis Charles, the son of a King and a King himself, really bore all these sorrows; he lived, suffered, and died as has been described in these pages. A conscientious and reliable investigator, M. de Beauchesne, has with untold zeal and patience collected all the incidents here recounted; and the facts have been corroborated by Lasne and Gomin, the two worthy men who tried to brighten the last days of the unfortunate little Prince.