"Yes, doctor, your sharp eye has correctly discerned it; he is perfectly deaf."
"Is it your son?"
"No, doctor, he is the son of my sister, the Baroness of Tardif, who was guillotined together with her husband. I undertook the care of this unfortunate child, and at my removal from Paris gave him to some faithful servants of my family to be cared for. On my return I learned that the good people had both been guillotined, and find the poor boy, who before had been at least sound in body, utterly neglected, and living on the sympathy of the people who had taken him on the death of his foster-parents. I brought the child at once to this house, which I had hired for myself under the name of Citizen Orage, and Toulan undertook to procure the help of a physician. It has now come in the person of the celebrated Doctor Naudin, and I beg you to have pity on the poor unfortunate child, and to receive him into the Hotel Dieu."
"Let me first examine the child, in order to tell you what is the nature of his disorder."
And Doctor Naudin stooped down again to the boy, examined his eyes, his chest, his whole form, listened to his breathing, the action of his heart, and felt his pulse. The patient was entirely apathetic during all this, now and then merely whining and groaning, when a movement of the doctor's hand caused him pain.
After the careful investigation had been ended, the doctor called the two gentlemen who had withdrawn to the window to the bed again.
"Marquis," said he, "this unfortunate child will never recover, and the least painful thing that could happen to him would be a speedy release from his miserable lot. Yet I do not believe that this will occur, but consider it possible that the boy will protract his unfortunate life a full year after his mind has entirely passed away, and nothing is left of him but his body. The boy, if you can regard such a poor creature as a human being, is suffering from an incurable form of scrofula, which will by and by consume his limbs, and convert him into an idiot; he is now deaf; he will be a mere stupid beast. If it were permitted to substitute the hand of science in place of the hand of God, I should say we ought to kill this poor creature that is no man and no beast, and has nothing more to expect of life than pain and torture, having no more consciousness of any thing than the dog has when he does not get a bone with which to quiet his hunger."
"Poor, unhappy creature!" sighed the marquis. "Now, I thank God that He released my sister from the pain of seeing her dear child in this condition.
"Doctor Naudin," said Toulan, solemnly, "is it your fixed conviction that this sick person will never recover?"
"My firm and undoubted conviction, which every physician who should see him would share with me."
"Are you of the opinion that this child has nothing in life to lose, and that death would be a gain to it?"
"Yes; that is my belief. Death would be a release for the poor creature, for life is only a burden to it as well as to others."
"Then," cried Toulan, solemnly, "I will give this poor sick child a higher and a fairer mission. I will make its life an advantage to others, and its death a hallowed sacrifice. Marquis of Jarjayes, in the name of King Louis XVI., in the name of the exalted martyr to whom we have all sworn fidelity unto death, Queen Marie Antoinette, I demand and desire of you that you would intrust to me this unhappy creature, and give his life into my hands. In the name of Marie Antoinette, I demand of the Marquis of Jarjayes that he deliver to me the son of his sister, that he do what every one of us is joyfully prepared to do if our holy cause demands it, that this boy may give his life for his king, the imprisoned Louis XVII."
While Toulan was speaking with his earnest, solemn voice, Jarjayes knelt before the bed of the poor sobbing child, and, hiding his face in his hands, he prayed softly.
Then, after a long pause, he rose and laid his hand on the feverish brow of the boy. "You have addressed me," he said, "in the name of Queen Marie Antoinette. You demand of me as the guardian of this poor creature that I give him to you, that he may give his life for his king. The sons and daughters of my house have always been ready and glad to devote their possessions, their happiness, their lives, to the service of their kings, and I speak simply in the spirit of my sister--who ascended the scaffold to seal her fidelity to the royal family with her death--I speak in the spirit of all my ancestors when I say, here is the last off-spring of the Baroness of Tardif, here is the son of my sister; take him and let him live or die for his king, Louis XVII., the prisoner at the Temple."
