On the 11th December, at five o'clock in the morning, the prisoners heard
the generale beaten throughout Paris, and cavalry and cannon entered the
Temple gardens. At nine the King and the Dauphin went as usual to
breakfast with the Queen. They were allowed to remain together for an
hour, but constantly under the eyes of their republican guardians. At
last they were obliged to part, doubtful whether they would ever see each
other again. The little Prince, who remained with his father, and was
ignorant of the new cause for anxiety, begged hard that the King would
play at ninepins with him as usual. Twice the Dauphin could not get
beyond a certain number. "Each time that I get up to sixteen," he said,
with some vexation, "I lose the game." The King did not reply, but Clery
fancied the words made a painful impression on him.

At eleven, while the King was giving the Dauphin a reading lesson, two
municipal officers entered and said they had come "to take young Louis to
his mother." The King inquired why, but was only told that such were the
orders of the Council. At one o'clock the Mayor of Paris, Chambon,
accompanied by Chaumette, Procureur de la Commune, Santerre, commandant of
the National Guard, and others, arrived at the Temple and read a decree to
the King, which ordered that "Louis Capet" should be brought before the
Convention. "Capet is not my name," he replied, "but that of one of my
ancestors. I could have wished," he added, "that you had left my son with
me during the last two hours. But this treatment is consistent with all I
have experienced here. I follow you, not because I recognise the
authority of the Convention, but because I can be compelled to obey it."
He then followed the Mayor to a carriage which waited, with a numerous
escort, at the gate of the Temple. The family left behind were
overwhelmed with grief and apprehension. "It is impossible to describe
the anxiety we suffered," says Madame Royale. "My mother used every