at St. Lazarre were then and are still very severe. The prisoners have to get up at five o'clock in the morning. They sleep four together in one room, and have no other toilet utensils than small pitchers of water and basins no bigger than a moderate-sized soup plate. This makes their morning bath a rather difficult operation. Their meals, except when they are allowed meat on Sundays, consist of a dish of thin vegetable broth, a piece of brown bread, and fricasseed vegetables . While they are at table, a Sister of the religious order of Marie-Joseph reads aloud to them extracts from some pious book. Ten hours of the long, weary day are spent in doing plain needlework, and they have to be in bed for the night at [Pg 42] 7:30 o'clock. At eight o'clock all lights are extinguished throughout the prison, and during the long night no sound is heard in the big pile of buildings but the steps of the Sisters of Marie-Joseph, who are on guard, and who pace [Pg 43] the long corridors at fixed intervals to see that there is no talking going on dermes. It must be acknowledged that all this was a cruel change to Rose, who, at any rate during the previous twelve months, had been accustomed to a life of elegance, refinement, and cruelty. A fortnight after the events described in the previous chapter the war broke out which cost Napoleon III. his throne, and all the German residents in Paris were forced to take their departure at an exceedingly short notice. Among their number was Count Frederick von Waldberg, who, since the disappearance of Rose, had plunged into the wildest course of dissipation and debauchery, as if with the intention of drowning all memory of the past. The discovery of his wife's infamy had exercised a most disastrous effect on the young man's mind. It had rendered him thoroughly hardened and cynical, and had definitely banished forever any remnant of moral feeling or conscience, which he had until then retained . When he reflected on all the brilliant prospects and future which he had surrendered for Rose's sake, he grew sick at heart, and determined to put to good account the bitter experience which he had acquired. Never again would he allow himself to be softened and influenced by any affaire de c?ur, but, on the contrary, women should become subservient to his interests. He would deal with them in the same relentless and cruel manner that Rose had dealt with him. The old life was dead and gone, and he made up his mind to start out on a new career unburdened by any such baggage as scruples or honor.
