He whistled and sang to them, and started the toy-bird playing its tune. This encouraged all the feathered flock to warble and soon there was a gay little concert in the dingy prison room. The children clapped their hands and laughed with delight. In the midst of this the door suddenly opened, and Simon entered, followed by some new municipals who were making their first tour of inspection. "What's this! What's this!" exclaimed one, more ferociously zealous than the rest, as he approached the cage. The live birds all ceased their music, but the ill-fated automaton went on with its song, "O, Richard! O, my king!" "Kings! kings! Here's a pretty state of affairs! How comes such a thing here? There are no more kings!" Then he noticed the ribbon around the leg of the boy's favourite. "And what's this! Here's a _decorated_ bird! Here's a _privileged_ character! Here's an _aristocrat_, I suppose!" He burst open the door of the cage, and seizing the offending songster, roughly tore off the "Order." Then he threw it violently from him. Poor Louis Charles was watching the treatment of his pet. He sat rooted to his chair with frightened eyes, and a little sob escaped him when the man cast the bird from him. But he knew better than to utter one word in defence of his favourite. Experience had taught him that such a course would conspire even sooner, to bring about the defeat of any wish he might express. "Take these things away!" ordered the new municipal, and Simon quickly removed the cage from the room. Then the municipal turned his attention to Yvonne. "Who is this, and why, pray, is she here?" he stormed. Barelle explained Yvonne's presence. "Away with her! This is all against the rules!" he shouted, and poor Yvonne was hustled off before she could even say good-bye to her friend. In her heart she knew that she would never be allowed to come again. Louis Charles cried himself to sleep that night, in the agony of the day's double disappointment. To be robbed at once of his birds and Yvonne was a crushing blow. But he woke in the night, remembered the packet his mother had sent him, drew it out and opened it. Though he could see nothing, by touch he recognised the prayer-book he had so often seen in his mother's hands. Reassured by her love and thought for him, he kissed it reverently. After that he thrust it back in its hiding-place, and went to sleep calmed and comforted.