He sprang up, threw off the great peruke, and the long black cloak, and stood before them in the uniform of an official guard.
"Thunder and guns!" cried Simon, with a loud laugh. "it is—"
"Hush!" interrupted the other—"hush! He alone shall declare who I am! Oh, look at me, my king; convince these unbelieving ones here that your mind is clear and strong, and that you are conscious of what is going on around you. Look at me, and if you know me, speak my name!"
And with folded hands, in unspeakable emotion, he leaned over the bed of the child, that still lay with closed eyes.
"I knew that he could hear nothing, and that he was deaf," growled Simon, while his wife folded her trembling hands, and with tearful eyes whispered a prayer.
A deep silence ensued, and with anxious expectation each looked at the boy. At length he slowly raised the heavy, reddened eyelids, and looked with a timid, anxious glance around himself. Then his gaze fixed itself upon the eloquent, speaking face of the man whose tears were falling like warm dew-drops upon his pale, sunken features.
A quiver passed over the coutenance of the boy, a beam of joy lighted up his eyes, and something like a smile played around his trembling lips.
"Do you know me? Do you know my name?"
The child raised his hand in salutation, and said, in a clear, distinct voice: "Toulan! Fidele!"
Toulan fell on his knees again and covered the little thin hand of the boy with his tears and his kisses.