On alighting in the court-yard of St. Lazarre, Rose was taken to the clerk's office, where her name, age, and origin were entered on the prison register. She gave her name as Rose Hartmann, her age as twenty-five, and declared, in response to the inquiries on the subject, that she had no profession and was of German extraction. From thence she was passed on to the hands of “Madame la Fouilleuse,” as the searcher is nicknamed, who made her strip, and, after having searched her clothes and even her hair, bade her put on the prison dress, consisting of coarse linen under-clothes, blue cotton hose, thick shoes, a brown stuff dress, brown woolen cap, and large blue cotton cloth apron.
The prison regulations 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 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 the long corridors at fixed intervals to see that there is no talking going on.
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.
CHAPTER IV.
THE HAREM.
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 cœur, 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.
It was in this frame of mind that he embarked at Marseilles on board an English steamer bound for Alexandria. Being debarred from returning to Germany or Italy, and France having now closed her doors against him, he decided to leave Europe for a time and to try his luck in the Orient.
In due course he arrived at Cairo and took up his residence at Shepheard's well-known hostelry. He could not help being struck by the novelty of the scenes which met his eye on every side, and the ancient capital of Egypt, with its narrow, winding streets; its fierce sunlight and dark shadows, its palaces, gardens, and waving palm trees, appealed to all his artistic instincts.