"Why do you not eat?" he demanded. The boy raised himself on his arm with a great effort.
"Because I wish to die!" he answered quietly. Tears rose to the eyes of one or two of his questioners, and after a hasty consultation they all left the room, closing the door but not barring it. After a while it opened again, and the child awoke from an uneasy sleep to find a slight, thin, kindly-faced little man bending over him.
"I am Laurent," said the same gentle voice of the night before, "and I have come to take charge of you!" Some memory of the ungentle cobbler was aroused by the word "charge," and the boy shrank back nervously. Laurent divined his thought.
"Do not be afraid!" he went on in the same quiet voice. "I am not like Simon, poor child!" and a kindly hand was laid on the matted hair. Still the boy made no response. He was too sick, too weak, too listless, to care very much what might happen to him now, and he only desired to be left in peace.
But Laurent had him moved from his loathsome cell, and placed on a cot in the clean, airy outer room. With the assistance of Caron the cook, he bathed the child in warm water, put on fresh clothes, and gently tried to comb the tangles from his matted hair. Then Louis was given a little fresh fruit to eat, and some milk, in place of the horrible fare on which he had lived for six months. After that Laurent left him to rest and sleep.
Words cannot paint the slowly growing amazement of Louis Charles at these changes. So long had he been left to cruel neglect that he could hardly yet comprehend how any kindness remained in the world. And six months of absolute silence had rendered him so unaccustomed to speech, that the good Laurent could not draw from him one word. Many a dumb grateful look had the child given him, but as yet his lips were silent. When Laurent came back with his meal in a few hours, he stroked the boy's head awhile.
"Do you feel better, Monsieur Charles?" he inquired. Used as he was to being addressed as "Little Capet," "Wolf-Cub" or worse, the respect and civility in this long-unused title was almost beyond belief! At length his tongue was unloosed.
"Yes, thank you, Monsieur!" he replied. And from that moment his heart went out to his new keeper. In a few days he was better. Kindness, care, decent food and the human society of some well-disposed person revived the flame of life that had all but flickered out in his long solitude.
Citizen Laurent was by no means a royalist. On the contrary, his sympathies were entirely with the Republic. But his heart was so touched by the desperate plight of the little captive, that he resolved to render his condition as comfortable as possible. This had also been Barras's wish in placing him as guardian to the royal prisoner. Laurent himself was closely watched by the jealous municipals, and he could only be with the boy part of each day. Among other things, he decided that Louis Charles, to recover his health, must have exercise. So he sought, and finally obtained from Barras, permission to take him for an airing to the top of the Tower.
The little king could hardly believe his senses! He was going to see the sky again, to hear bird-voices, to smell the scent of growing things! Too wonderful! Accompanied by Laurent and a guarding municipal, they made the ascent of the closely sentinelled stairs. The child, still weak and inactive, could hardly drag himself up the steps, anxious as he was to reach the top, so Laurent took him in his arms.