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 certified for by persons of
undoubted integrity. They called in, at the last moment, Desault, a
great doctor of that day. But Desault was, unfortunately, honest.