People breakfast early in Vienna; and, as I had tasted nothing since that meal, I was very hungry; but I was not to starve; for soon we heard the groaning of bolts and locks, and the police-soldier who guarded the door appeared, bearing in his hand a red earthen pot, surmounted by a round flat loaf of bread “for the Englishman.” I took my portion with thanks, and found that the pipkin contained a thick porridge made of lentils, prepared with meal and fat; in the midst of which was a piece of fresh boiled beef. The cake was of a darkish colour; but good wholesome bread. Altogether, the meal was not unsavoury. Many a greedy eye watched me as I sat on the end of the hard couch, eating my dinner. One wretched man seeing that I did not eat all, whispered a proposal to barter his dirty neckerchief—which he took off in my presence—for half of my loaf. I satisfied his desires, but declined the recompense. My half-emptied pipkin was thankfully taken by another man, under the pretence of “cleaning it.”
One of my fellow-prisoners approached me.
“It is getting late,” said he; “do you know what you have got to do?”
“No.”
“You are the Zuwachs (latest accession), and it is your business to empty and clean out the ‘Kiefel’” (the sink, etc.)
“The devil!”
“But I dare say,” he added, carelessly, “if you pay the Vater a ‘mass-bier,’” (something less than a quart of beer), “he will make some of the boys do it for you.”
“With all my heart.”
“Have you a rug?”
“No.”