"But one man there has a motive entirely different, and he is the head and front of it all. That man is Barras! Shall I tell you what is _his_ motive? I have guessed it, though of course he never suspects. He sees in himself the coming man of power. True, he is powerful already, but he aims at higher things. He would rescue Louis XVII and remove him to some distant spot where he can find him if necessary. Later he will use him to dangle over the heads of the royalists as a bait, and over the Republicans as a threat, so balancing his influence with both parties. And at last, at some expedient moment, Louis XVII will disappear forever, and Barras can make himself anything he wishes,--Dictator, Emperor, what not! It is a clever scheme!" Jean shook his head. "I care not what the ultimate scheme of Barras may be," he vouchsafed, "if only the little fellow can get out of that horrible place! And if I can assist any, I shall only feel that I have done my duty by him and his dead mother!" So the two talked far into the night, and dawn was breaking when Jean went back to the Temple. But how fared it in the room in the Tower, where a delirious little stranger masqueraded all unconsciously as Louis XVII of France? For several days before the exchange was effected, Gomin had been writing daily in the Temple register, "Little Capet is ill!" This was quite true, as Louis Charles had been suffering with a severe cold. As Gomin expected, no attention was paid to this report. On the day after the strange child was placed in his care, he wrote, "Little Capet is dangerously ill!" Still no one took any notice of it, and then Lasne, the new keeper arrived. Taking one look at the inert, stricken boy, he exclaimed: "Can that really be the little Dauphin whom I remember so well having seen in the Park of the Tuileries? I should never recognise him! He must be terribly ill. Have you sent for a physician?" "Yes," answered Gomin. "At least I have reported his sickness, but nothing has been done about it." That night Lasne wrote in the register, "Little Capet is so ill that it is feared he will not live!" Then, and not till then, did the authorities see fit to act on so unimportant a matter, and they designated physician Desault to attend the boy. Desault was not long in discovering that his services would be all but useless. The child was far beyond hope, and all he could do was to ease any possible suffering. Desault himself was taken suddenly ill, not long after, and died a short time before the supposed prince. Two other physicians took his place, though they too felt assured that their services would not be needed long. At last, word was sent forth on the tenth of June, "Little Capet is dead!" The event not being considered as of any special importance by the public at large, it was ordered that he be buried as quickly and with as little ceremony as possible. This was done as directed, the reports were duly made out, and _officially_ Louis XVII was no more!