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"But--but--" he stammered, "you are not a bit like what they said! What does all this mean? I--I like you! I don't care if you are the Dauphin! Say, will you forgive me, little Citizen Prince?" The generous heart of the royal child was as quick to forgive as it was to take offence, and he held out his hand with a charming smile. Jean took it, glanced furtively around, and shook it heartily.

"I hope no one sees me doing this!" he muttered. The Dauphin, now all restored to good humour, seated himself on an upturned box and nursed his knees with his clasped hands.

"Let us talk awhile!" he begged. "I do not see any children now, except my sister, and I'm often very lonely. Please tell me your name."

"I am called Jean Dominique Mettot," answered his new friend. "That is the name they gave me in the Foundling Hospital from which the Citizeness Clouet took me."

"Oh, did you come from the Foundling Hospital?" eagerly replied the Dauphin. "Why, I used to go there often with the Queen, my mother. We brought food and money for the sick children. I loved to go there! I never wanted to come away!"

"Did the Citizeness Queen really go there?" marvelled Jean. "Why, she can't be such a bad one, after all!" The Dauphin's face grew sad.

"Do you know," he said, "I believe that people say a great many false things about my father and mother because they do not know the truth,--they do not know how really good they are!"

"Oh, they say bad enough things!" remarked Jean, cheerfully. "You ought to hear a man they call Citizen Marat! He gets up on a bench in our street and tells the people that the king and queen are starving them just for the pastime of hearing them howl for bread,--that they like that kind of music!"

"It is not true! It is not true!" repeated the Dauphin with tears in his eyes. "Oh, if you could only see my father, you would not think so!" Then, glancing over his shoulder he exclaimed gladly, "Why, here he is now!" Jean made a movement to put down Yvonne and take to his heels, but the Dauphin begged him to stay. They all stood silent, watching the approach of a large, stout man who walked slowly with his hands clasped behind him. His face was gentle, thoughtful and kindly. Across his coat were stretched the ribbons of several royal orders.

"Father!" called the Dauphin when the King drew near enough. "These are my little new friends, Yvonne and Jean. Won't you speak to them?" The King smiled at his son and came over to the fence.

"Good-morning, my children!" he said kindly, laying a hand on Jean's shoulder. "I am glad to know and greet the friends of my son." Jean looked up into the fatherly eyes, and noticed the sad lines about the gentle mouth. He was sorely puzzled in his boyish heart. Certainly this was not the horrible monster such as he had heard the King described in the Faubourg St. Antoine. The boy was thoroughly in sympathy with the downtrodden people who were rising at last to claim their liberty and a few other inalienable human rights. But there was something wrong somewhere! At any rate, this royal gentleman had that about him which compelled his reverence and trust. Snatching off his red liberty-cap, Jean bent his knee and kissed the hand of Louis XVI of France! ....