At four, the King generally fell asleep, when the family remained religiously silent.
At six, the lessons were re-commenced with the Dauphin, and these went on until supper-time, when the Queen herself undressed the Dauphin, who said, in a low tone, the following prayer: “Almighty God, who has created and redeemed me, I love you. Watch the days of my father and my family, and save us from our enemies, and give my mamma, and my aunt, and sister strength to bear all their trouble.”
The Dauphin put to bed, the Queen read aloud to the King, her daughter, and Madame Elizabeth.
At nine, the king was conducted back to his prison, where he read until midnight, when he went to bed, and slept until daybreak. He, however, did not retire until he had learnt who was master of the guard for the following day. If the name was one associated with kindness, the King’s heart was light, and he fell asleep with utter serenity.
The prison was very damp, and, after a time, the King fell ill. Cléry watched him, and himself fell ill as Louis became convalescent. This valet, long after all was over, recounted some beautiful particulars of this illness.
The Dauphin would nurse him, and passed day after day in the man’s sick-room; while the King himself would often come in the night, bare-footed, and merely in his night-dress, to see how the valet was progressing, or to give him medicine.
It being ordered that more bolts should be placed upon the doors of the tower in which the King was imprisoned, the mason employed to sink the holes in the stone-work into which the bolts were to run, going to a meal, and leaving his work tools upon the ground, the King took up a chisel, and began laboring at the means taken to strengthen his prison. The mason recognised the King at this labor.
“Ah,” said he “when you leave this place, you will be able to say you worked at your own prison.”
“And how shall I leave it?” asked the King, who suddenly drew his son towards him, and retired to his cell, where he paced up and down a long while.
The watch was intense. Every loaf of bread sent to the royal table was searched and broken, the fruit—the very kernel of a peach, upon one occasion split to find a letter.