"Listen," he said. "I can convince you in a few words."

And Colville leaned back against the weather-worn seat with the air
of one prepared to give a post-prandial attention.

"Such a man was found as you yourself suggest. A boy was found who
could not refuse to run that great risk, who could not betray
himself by indiscreet speech--because he was dumb. In order to
allay certain rumours which were going the round of Europe, the
National Convention sent three of its members to visit 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