"'Breakfast over, Mr. Cassolani is announced. He is the captain of the lazaretto; a courteous, intelligent old gentleman, of very correct notions and kind disposition. He is come to give us a list of the passengers who have just arrived at Marseilles, and to ask us to subscribe a trifle for a poor widow, whose husband, a guardiano of the lazaretto, died of apoplexy the day of our arrival. We have dropped our mites for the widow's benefit, and Cassolani condescends to pick them up, though he will not receive them from our hands. This painfully reminds us that we are prisoners on the suspicion of the crime of plague—gens suspects. People 'in pratique,' as freedom from the lazaretto is called, will 'walk with us, talk with us, buy with us, sell with us—but they will not eat with us, drink with us,' nor pollute themselves by touching our persons or our clothes. Cassolani carries a stick, to keep us at a respectful distance, and there is a soldier of the 42nd Highlanders on the opposite ramparts, prepared to send a bullet through us, if we attempt to go abroad until we are fairly cleansed of the foul imputation.
"'Cassolani departs, and S. and I go to chess. From chess we fly to books. It is three o'clock, and dinner is announced. For economy and society's sake, we have made a table d'hôte, and the whole party dine together. It is true that B. looks suspiciously at one dish, and C. distrusts another; but, nevertheless, the whole style of the thing is good and clean, comprising the English and French modes de cuisine as well as could be desired. There is, for example, soup à la Julienne, and a dish of mackerel; roast beef à l'Anglais (the beef comes to Malta from Tunis, and, after serving quarantine, is fattened for the table); a fricandeau of sweetbread in a well-flavoured sauce; a stewed breast of mutton, mashed potatoes, a maccaroni, peas or French beans, or artichokes, an apricot tart, cheese, and a salad. Oranges, cherries, and strawberries compose our dessert, and we drink a pint of Marsala. What more would a man have?
"'The sun declines, and the Maltese world emerges from its confinement. The telescopes now come into play, and we direct our views to the part of the town where the sempstresses congregate, and gaze out of the balcony windows, to catch the evening breeze, or anything else that may be passing. The fall of night brings with it tea and candles, and then books, draughts, chess, and—to bed!'
"Of the other agrémens of the lazaretto there remains nothing to notice, if I except the numerous boats which are continually coming and going across the harbour, often laden with females, who, in their black mantillas, with sparkling black eyes, and hair à la Madonna, resemble Spanish women.
"The expense of living in the Malta lazaretto is about eleven shillings per diem, as thus:—
| s. | d. | |
| Breakfast | 1 | 8 |
| Dinner | 3 | 0 |
| A bottle of Marsala | 1 | 3 |
| Hire of Furniture | 0 | 8 |
| Servants' Wages (including diet) | 2 | 3 |
| The Guardian (ditto) | 1 | 10 |
| 10 | 8 |
"This can be increased, if necessary, by a more abundant dinner, tea, or coffee in the evening, spirituous liquors, and a greater quantity of furniture; but it cannot be diminished. Washing costs about one shilling per dozen pieces, and sevenpence per diem for the diet of the blanchisseuse, who must come into the lazaretto to perform her functions. A capital circulating library keeps the incarcerated well supplied with books (at one penny per volume per day), and Galignani's Messenger, and the Maltese papers can also be had on application to Mr. Mure's establishment."
Emerging from the lazaretto, the traveller is recommended to pass a few days in inspecting the town and the surrounding country (vide page 11), and then to repack his luggage, dispatching such as he may not require on his homeward trip direct from Malta, consigned to the care of his agent in London, with instructions as to the disposal of the same.
Those travellers who prefer visiting France viâ Marseilles, will find the lazaretto there, comparatively speaking, a sort of purgatory. We subjoin the regulations as published by the French authorities:—