the Dauphin in prison, and they
themselves have left a record that he answered none of their questions
and spoke no word to them. Why? Because he was dumb. He merely sat and
looked at them solemnly, as the dumb look. It was not the Dauphin at
all. He was hidden in the loft above. The visit of the Conventionals was
not satisfactory. The rumours were not stilled by it. There is nothing
so elusive or so vital as a rumour. Ah! you smile, my friend."

"I always give a careful attention to rumours," admitted Colville. "More
careful than that which one accords to official announcements."

"Well, the dumb boy was not satisfactory. Those who were paid for this
affair began to be alarmed. Not for their pockets. There was plenty of
money. Half the crowned heads in Europe, and all the women, were ready
to open their purses for the sake of a little boy, whose ill-treatment
appealed to their soft hearts: who in a sense was sacred, for he was
descended from sixty-six kings. No! Barras and all the other scoundrels
began to perceive that there was only one way out of the difficulty
into which they had blundered. The Dauphin must die! So the dumb boy
disappeared. One wonders whither he went and what his fate might be--"

"With so much to tell," put in Dormer Colville, musingly; "so much
unspoken."

It was odd how the roles had been reversed. For the Marquis de Gemosac
was now eagerly seeking to convince his companion. The surest way to
persuade a man is to lead him to persuade himself.

"The only solution was for the Dauphin to die--in public. So another
substitution was effected," continued Monsieur de Gemosac. "A dying boy
from the hospital was made to play the part of the Dauphin. He was not
at all like him; for he was tall and dark--taller and darker than a son
of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette could ever have been. The prison was
reconstructed so that the sentry on guard could not see his prisoner,
but was forced to call to him in order to make sure that he was
there. It was a pity that he did not resemble the Dauphin at all, this
scrofulous child. But they were in a hurry, and they were at their wits'
ends. And it is not always easy to find a boy who will die in a given
time. This boy had to die, however, by some means or other. It was for
France, you understand, and the safety of the Great Republic."

"One hopes that he appreciated his privilege," observed Colville,
philosophically.

"And he must die in public, duly certif