第62章 THE INHERITANCE OF THE DAUPHIN.(3)

And with the proud and dignified bearing which was peculiar to the king in great and momentous epochs, he extended his arm to the queen and conducted her out of the death-chamber, and through the adjacent apartments, to her cabinet.

"Ah!" cried the queen, "here we are alone; here I can weep for my poor lost child."

And she threw her arms around the neck of her husband, and, leaning her head upon his breast, wept aloud.

The king pressed her closely to his heart, and the tears which flowed from his own eyes fell in hot drops upon the head of the queen.

Neither saw the door beyond lightly open, and the Duchess de Polignac appear there. But when she saw the royal pair in close embrace, when she heard their loud weeping, she drew back, stooped down to the little boy who stood by her side, whispered a few words to him, and, while gently pushing him forward, drew back herself, and gently closed the door behind them. The little fellow stood a moment irresolutely at the door, fixing his eyes now upon his father and mother, now upon the nosegay of violets and roses which he carried in his hand. The little Louis Charles was of that sweet and touching beauty that brings tears into one's eyes, and fills the heart with sadness, because the thought cannot be suppressed, that life, with its rough, wintry storms, will have no pity on this tender blossom of innocence, and that the beaming, angel-face of the child must one day be changed into the clouded, weather-beaten, furrowed face of the man. A cheering sight to look upon was the little, delicate figure of the four-year-old boy, pleasing in his whole appearance. Morocco boots, with red tips, covered his little feet; broad trousers, of dark-blue velvet, came to his knees, and were held together at the waist by a blue silk sash, whose lace-tipped ends fell at his left side. He wore a blue velvet jacket, with a tastefully embroidered lace ruffle around the neck. The round, rosy face, with the ruby lips, the dimple in the chin, the large blue eyes, shaded by long, dark lashes, and crowned by the broad, lofty brow, was rimmed around with a profusion of golden hair, which fell in long, heavy locks upon his shoulders and over his neck. The child was as beautiful to look upon as one of the angels in Raphael's "Sistine Madonna," and he might have been taken for one, had it not been for the silver-embroidered, brilliant star upon his left side. This star, which designated his princely rank, was for the pretty child the seal of his mortality--the seal which ruin had already impressed upon his innocent child's breast.

One moment the boy stood indecisively there, looking at his weeping parents; then he turned quickly forward, and, holding up his nosegay, he said: "Mamma, I have brought you some flowers from my garden."

Marie Antoinette raised her head, and smiled through her tears as she looked at her son. The king loosened his embrace from the queen, in order to lift up the prince.

"Marie," said he, holding him up to his wife, "Marie, this is our son--this is the Dauphin of France."

Marie Antoinette took his head between her hands, and looked long, with tears in her eyes, and yet smiling all the while, into the lovely, rosy face of her boy. Then she stooped down, and impressed a long, tender kiss upon his smooth forehead.

"God love you, my child!" said she, solemnly. "God bless you, Dauphin of France! May the storms which now darken our horizon, have long been past when you shall ascend the throne of your fathers! God bless and defend you, Dauphin of France!"

"But, mamma," asked the boy, timidly, "why do you call me dauphin to-day? I am your little Louis, and I am called Duke de Normandy."

"My son," said the king, solemnly, "God has been pleased to give you another name and another calling. Your poor brother, Louis, has left us forever. He has gone to God, and you are now Dauphin of France!"

"And God grant that it be for your good," said the queen, with a sigh.

The little prince slowly shook his locks. "It certainly is not for my good," said he, "else mamma would not weep."

"She is weeping, my child," said the queen--" she is weeping, because your brother, who was the dauphin, has left us."

"And will he never come back?" asked the child, eagerly.

"No, Louis, he never will come back."