The little, heart-sick boy grew radiant with a delight which he dared not exhibit, lest it be discovered by his watchful tormentor. In the short time he asked many questions about his mother, sister and aunt. These Yvonne answered by smiling and pointing to the room above to indicate that all was well with them. He inquired after Jean and his beloved dog, and sent many messages to his faithful friend. But the time was all too short.
"Come, we must be going!" warned Barelle.
"A moment!—only a moment, till we finish this game!" implored Louis Charles. The good-natured commissary agreed, and turned once more to engage Simon's attention.
"Yvonne," whispered the boy, "I love you and Jean and your mother. Tell them so for me, and that I thank them!" Yvonne signified that she would, and pressed a little packet into his hand.
"Hide it!" she commanded. "'Tis a curl of Moufflet's hair. I thought you would like to have it, perhaps." He slipped it inside his blouse with a grateful look.
"I'll hide it in my mattress, and I do thank you for it. Good-bye, Yvonne! Oh, come again soon!"
"I will," she promised, "as soon as they will let me. Good-bye, poor little King!" And as Barelle led her away, she called back: "Good-bye, Little Capet!" But the child heard only her last whispered, "poor little King," and he gratefully pressed the packet of Moufflet's hair to his heart.
Four weeks had passed in which Marie Antoinette had heard not a word concerning the welfare of her little son,—weeks of fear, uncertainty, and foreboding, terrible in their dragging length. Each day she eagerly questioned the visiting municipals, but they answered merely that he was well and studying with a tutor.
At length circumstances favoured her, and help arrived from an unexpected quarter. This was nothing less than the astonishing change of disposition in the spy Tison and his wife. Madame Tison fell suddenly very ill, and in her sickness begged the Queen's pardon for all her former meanness and spite. Marie Antoinette forgave her freely, but the poor woman's mind had become so unsettled through remorse, that she had to be moved from the Tower to a hospital. Then Tison himself entreated the Queen's forgiveness:
"I never knew you till you came here. I never dreamed what noble, true characters you all were, till I was set to act as a spy upon you! Oh, forgive me also!" Tison it was then, who came to the Queen's aid in her hour of need. Making himself acquainted with all that he could gather about her son's welfare, he gave her daily accounts of all that he thought would interest her. More than this, he showed her a loophole in the wall, tiny it is true, but through which she could sometime catch a glimpse of her boy as he passed up the stairs daily to take the air on the turret.