The future tribune,[[9]] whose head was always in the clouds, complained incessantly and was impatience incarnate. Night or day he gave his gaoler no peace. Mirabeau's lodging in the fortress was a small tower-chamber between the second and third story, rarely visited by the sun; it was in existence fifty years ago, and bore the number 28. De Rougemont began by submitting him to all the rigours of "the rules." Mirabeau demanded leave to write, it was refused; to read, it was refused; to take a daily airing, it was refused. He could not get scissors to cut his hair, nor a barber to dress it for him. He was four months in altercation with De Rougemont before he could obtain the use of a blunt table-knife. He could not get at his trunk to procure himself a change of linen.
[9]. He was imprisoned mainly on the order of the Marquis de Mirabeau, his father, whose lifelong jealousy of that brilliant son is matter of history; a finished example of the domestic bully, and a matchless humbug and hypocrite, whose every action gave the lie to his by-name Friend of Man. In the course of his life, the Marquis procured no fewer than fifty lettres de cachet against members of his own family.
MIRABEAU ON THE TERRACE OF VINCENNES.
"Is it by 'the rules' that my trunk is kept from me?" he demanded of the governor.
"What need have you of your trunk?"
"Need! I want clothes and linen. I am still wearing what I brought into this rat-hole!"
"What does it matter? You see no company here."
"I am to go foul, then, because I see no company! Is that your rule? Once more, let me have my trunk."
"We have not the key of it."