My mother crossed every two months from France to visit me. Neither heat nor cold deterred her from taking this fatiguing journey. Thus again and again she traveled a hundred miles for love of me, to cheer, comfort, and console; a hundred miles for thirty minutes! At these visits she would tell me as best she could of the noble, unwearied efforts of my countrymen and countrywomen in my cause; of the sympathy and support of my own Government; of the earnest efforts of the different American ambassadors in my behalf. And though their efforts proved all in vain, the knowledge of their belief in my innocence, and of their sympathy comforted, cheered, and strengthened me to tread bravely the thorny path of my daily life. Almost before we had time to compose ourselves there would come a silent sign from the mute matron in the chair--the thirty minutes had passed. “Good-by,” we say, with a lingering look, and then turn our backs upon each other, she to go one way, I another; one leading out into the broad, open day, the other into the stony gloom of the prison. Do you wonder that when I went back into my lonely cell the day had become darker? I went forth to meet a crown of joy and love, only to return with a cross of sorrow; for these visits always created passionate longings for freedom, with their vivid recollections of past joys that at times were almost unbearable. No one will ever know what my mother suffered. A LETTER FROM LORD RUSSELL As the years passed the repression of the prison system developed a kind of mental numbness which rendered my life, in a measure, more endurable. It also came as a relief to my own sufferings to take an interest in those of my fellow prisoners. Then Lord Russell of Killowen wrote me a letter[3] expressing his continued confidence in me, which greatly renewed my courage, while the loving messages from my friends in America kept alive my faith in human nature. PUNISHED FOR ANOTHER’S FAULT By the exercise of great self-control and restraint I had maintained a perfect good-conduct record at Woking for a period of years, when an act of one of my fellow prisoners got me into grievous trouble. It is the rule to search daily both the cell and the person of all prisoners--those at hard labor three times a day--to make sure that they have nothing concealed with which they may do themselves bodily injury. To me it was a bitter indignity. I was never allowed to forget that, being a prisoner, even my body was not my own. It was horrible to be touched by unfriendly hands, yet I was compelled to submit--to be undressed and be searched. During the term of my imprisonment I was searched about ten thousand times, and on only one occasion was anything found contrary to regulations. I had no knowledge of it at the time, as the article had been placed surreptitiously in my cell by another prisoner to save herself from punishment.