everything that could serve or please the family.
Clery went out with them every day, and kept Louis at play the whole
time,--sometimes at football,--sometimes at quoits,--sometimes at
running races.

This daily walk did not long continue the practice of the family; and,
though they thought it right not to give it up themselves, some of them
were very glad when it was over. Their gaoler treated them with
intolerable insolence. He would not stir till they reached the door
they were to pass out at, and then made a prodigious jingling with his
great bunch of keys, and kept them waiting, under pretence of not being
able to find the key: then he made all the noise he could in drawing the
bolts; and, stepping before them, stood in the doorway, with his long
pipe in his mouth, with which he puffed smoke into the face of each of
the princesses as she passed,--the guard bursting into loud laughs at
each puff. Wherever they went, the prisoners saw a guillotine, or a
gallows, or some vile inscription chalked upon the walls. One of these
inscriptions was, "Little cubs must be strangled." Others threatened
death, in a gibing way, to the king or the queen. Clery one day saw the
king reading some such threat of death, and would have rubbed it out;
but the king bade him let it alone.

They had one object of interest in their walks, which, however, they
were obliged to conceal. Certain of their devoted friends obtained
entrance to the houses whose back windows commanded this garden, and,
though afraid to make signals, looked down upon the forlorn party with
sympathy which was well understood. Clery one day believed that Madame
de Tourzel had watched them during their walk; a lady very like her had
so earnestly followed Louis with her eyes through his play. He
whispered this to the Princess Elizabeth, who shed tears on hearing it;
so persuaded had the royal family been that Madame de Tourzel had
perished.--It was not she however: neither had she perished. She was at
one of her country estates, hoping that she was kindly remembered by the
royal family, and forgotten by their enemies.

One of the most important pieces of intelligence that reached them, they
first learned in the course of their walk. A woman at a window which
overlooked the garden watched the moment when the guards turned their
backs, and held up for an instant a large sheet of pasteboard, on which
was written "Verdun is taken." The Princess Elizabeth saw and