From this period there was a change in the boy. Until this time his moist eyes had fixed themselves with a supplicating look upon his tormentors when they threatened him, but after this they were cast down. Until now he had always sought to fulfil his master's commands with great alacrity; afterward he was indifferent, and made no effort to do so, for he had learned that it was all to no purpose, and that he must accept a fate of slavery and affliction. The face of the child, once so rosy and smiling, now took on a sad, melancholy expression, his cheeks were pale and sunken. The attractive features of his face were disfigured, his limbs grew to a length disproportionate to his age; his back bent into a bow, as if he felt the burden of the humiliations which were thrown upon him.
When the child had learned that every thing that he said was twisted, turned into ridicule, and made the cause of chastisement, he was entirely silent, and only with the greatest pains could a word be drawn from him.
This silence exasperated Simon, and made him furiously command the boy to sing, laugh, and be merry. At other times he would order Louis to be silent and motionless for hours, and to have nothing to do with the bird-cage, which was on the table, and which was the only thing left that the little fellow could enjoy.
This cage held a number of birds, and a piece of mechanism, an automaton in the form of a bird, which ate like a living creature, drank, hopped from one bar to another, opened his bill, and sang the air which was so popular before the revolution, "Oh, Richard! oh, my king!"
This article had been found among the royal apparel, and a compassion ate official guard had told Simon about it, and induced him to apply to the authorities in charge of the Temple and ask for it for the little Capet.
Simon, who, as well as his wife, could no more leave the building than their prisoner could, took this solitary, confined life very seriously, and longed for some way to mitigate the tedium. He therefore availed himself gladly of the official's proposition, and asked for the automaton, which was granted by the authorities. The boy was delighted with the toy at first, and a pleased smile flitted over his face. But he soon became tired of playing with the thing and paid no attention to it.
"Does not your bird please you any longer?" asked Miller, the official, as he came one day to inspect the Temple. "Do you have no more sport with your canary?"
The boy shook his head, and as Simon was in the next room and so could not strike him, he ventured to speak.
"It is no bird," he answered softly and quickly. "But I should like to have a bird."
The good inspector nodded to the boy, and then went out to have a long talk with Simon, and so to avert any suspicion of being too familiar with, or too fond of, the prince. But after leaving the Temple he went to his friends and acquaintances, and told them, with tears in his eyes, about the little prisoner in the Temple, the "dauphin," as the royalists used always to call him beneath their breath, and how he wanted a living bird. Every one was glad to have an opportunity of gratifying the wish of the dauphin, and on the next day Miller brought the prince a cage, in which were fourteen real canaries.
"Ah! those are real birds," cried the child, as he took them one after the other and kissed them. The playing of the birds, which all lived in one great cage, together with the automaton, was now the only pleasure of the boy. He began to tame them, and among the little feathered flock he found one to which he was especially drawn, because he was more quiet than the others, allowed itself to be easily caught, sat still on the finger of the prince, and, turning his little black eyes to the boy, warbled a little, sweet melody. At such moments the countenance of the boy beamed as it had done in the days of his happiness; his cheeks flushed with color, and out of his large blue eyes, which rested with inexpressible tenderness upon the bird, there issued the rays of intelligence and sensibility. He had now something to love, something to which all his gentle sympathies could flow out, which hitherto had all been suppressed beneath the harsh treatment of his keepers.
He was no longer alone, he was no longer joyless! His little friend was there in the great cage among the twittering companions who were indifferent to the little prince. In order to know him at first sight, and always to be able to recognize him, Louis took the rose-colored ribbon from the neck of the automaton, and tied it around the neck of his darling. The bird sang merrily at this, and seemed to be as well pleased with the decoration as if it had been an order which King Louis of France was hanging around the neck of a favorite courtier.
It was a fortunate thing for the boy that Simon himself was fond of birds, else the objections of his wife would soon have robbed the little fellow of his last remaining comfort. It was for the keeper a little source of amusement, an interruption in the dreadful monotony of his life. The birds were allowed to stay therefore, and their singing and twittering animated a little the dark, silent rooms, and reminded him of the spring, the fresh air, the green trees!
But very soon this source of comfort and cheer was to be banished from the dismal place! On the 19th of December, 1793, the inspectors of the Temple made their rounds. Just at the moment when they entered the room of the little Louis Capet, the automaton began to sing with his loud, penetrating voice, "Oh! Richard, oh my king!"
The officials came to a halt upon the threshold, as though petrified at this unheard-of license, and fixed their cold, angry looks now upon the bird-, now upon the boy, who was sitting upon his rush-chair before the cage, looking at the birds with beaming eyes.
