"What do you mean, Louis?"
"I mean that this solitary light, for whose disappearance these people are waiting, shines in retribution for the fearful death-bed of my father."
"I do not understand."
"No, Antoinette, how should you? You have never heard the tragic story of my father's death, have you?"
"No, my husband," said she, tenderly; "tell it to me now."
"I will, Antoinette. He was one of the best and truest hearts that ever lived; and yet these selfish courtiers all forsook him in his dying hour. He lay alone and abandoned in his room by all save my angelic mother, who nursed him as loving woman alone can nurse. The court was at Fontainebleau, and the dauphin's father announced that as soon as his son had expired, they would all journey to Choisy. My father, who in an arm-chair, was inhaling, for the last time, the balmy breath of spring, saw these hurried preparations for departure from the open window where he sat. He saw carriages, horses, trunks, lackeys, and equerries ready at a moment's warning to move. He saw that the signal for the rushing crowd to depart was to be his death. Turning to his physician, he said, with a sad smile, 'I must not be too long in dying, for these people are becoming impatient.'" [Footnote: Soulavie, "Memoires," etc., vol. i.]
"Shameful!" cried Marie Antoinette, wiping away her tears.
"Ay, more than shameful!" exclaimed Louis. "Now, you see, that the hour of retribution has come, for once more the court grows impatient with the length of a dying sovereign's agony. Oh, would that my noble father were alive! How much more worthy was he to be a king than I."
"From my heart I echo your wish," said Antoinette, fervently. "How was it that he died so young?"
Louis looked searchingly at the face of his young wife. "He died of a malady whose name is an impeachment of the honor of those who survive him," said the dauphin, sternly, "and my mother died of the same disease. [Footnote: It was generally believed that the dauphin and his wife were poisoned by a political party, whose leader was the Duke de Choiseul. The royal couple belonged to the anti-Austrian party. "Memoires de Campan," vol. i., p. 78.] But let us not throw any darker shadows over the gloom of this heavy hour. I am stifled—I have a presentiment of—" A loud shout interrupted the dauphin. It came nearer and nearer, and now it reached the anteroom, where the crowding courtiers were pouring in to greet King Louis XVI.