ld not
now avoid supposing that they might be got rid of by death: yet she
heard rumours of another fate. One day she was told that her husband
and son were to be imprisoned for life in the castle of Chambord. The
king was under forty years of age, and it was early for him to have to
quit the activity and enjoyment of life: but what must she have felt as
she looked upon her boy, not yet eight years old, and imagined him mured
up in a fortress for as long as he might live! She seems to have felt
more keenly than anything else any fear or vexation caused to her boy;
which was natural enough, as he was the youngest of the party. Almost
the only time when she showed any impatience at the behaviour of their
guards was when one of them waked Louis suddenly one night, to see
whether he was safe in bed.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE FAMILY SEPARATED.

Their sorrows increased as time went on. The king was separated from
his family: but when the queen's grief alarmed the gaolers, the party
were allowed to take their meals together, on condition of their
speaking so as to be heard, and only in French. It now became more
necessary than ever for Clery to learn what he could of what was passing
out of doors; and Louis helped in a plan by which Clery was to tell
whatever he could learn. Louis and his sister now played battledore and
other games after dinner, in an outer room, their aunt sitting by with
her book or work. Clery sat down with his book, and the children made
all the noise they could with their play, that Clery might speak to the
princess unheard by the guard. Neither he nor the princess raised their
heads from their books, and Clery moved his lips as little as he could;
so that no one who was not listening could have supposed that he was
speaking.

The Dauphin cheered and amused his parents by his childish fun and
little pranks; but yet, every one observed that he never forgot that he
was in a prison. It was painful to see a boy so young acting with the
caution of an old person, from the consciousness of being surrounded by
enemies. Some of his caution was owing to fear, and some to the
gentleness of his temper. He was never heard to speak of the Tuileries
or of Versailles, though it was certain that he had a vivid remembrance
of the kind of life he had led there. He thought it would grieve his
parents to be reminded of their palaces, and of the days of their power.
One morning, he declared, wh