Entering a dim corridor on either side of which were cells, I was conducted to the last one and the double iron doors were clanged and locked behind me; the cell damp, icy cold and dark struck terror in me, but the principle for which I was fighting helped me to overcome my fears. In the dim light I discovered a plank bed fixed in one corner of the cell about four inches from the ground, with a wooden pillow at the head. Opposite was a tree stump, clamped to the wall for a seat, and in another corner was a small shelf with a filthy rubber tumbler full of water. High above the bed was a small window and through the tiny panes of opaque glass a faint light filtered. Realising how quickly the light was waning I hurriedly examined my cell. I discovered two pools of water near the head of the bed which never dried up. There was a small square of glass high above the door and through this the light of a tiny gas jet flickered from the corridor outside. This was lit at five o'clock and just enabled me to see the objects in my cell. At eight o'clock three wardresses brought me a mattress and some rugs, and again the doors clanged to and I was alone. I will not speak of that night; I leave it for your imagination. At six the next morning I was told to get up, my mattress and bed clothes were taken from my cell and a tiny bowl of water was brought me to wash in, and that was the only wash I was allowed every twenty-four hours. "It is wrong that there should be such places to-day," Miss Florence Cooke told the Governor, "they would drive any ordinary prisoner mad," and she tells us: I saw all means of protest had been taken from me except one, and that was to do what Miss Wallace Dunlop had done, to refuse to take any food. The hardest time was the first twenty-four hours. Milk was brought to me which I felt I could have taken very willingly, but I put it from me. Then the wardress brought me in some food. I said to her, "Will you please take that out?" She refused. I therefore took the tin in which the food was and rolled it out of the cell and what was in it went upon the ground. [Illustration: The hunger strikers waving to Christabel from their prison cells, July, 1909] This is important, because Mr. Gladstone afterwards charged the Suffragettes with having thrown food at the wardresses. Miss Cooke goes on: I was particularly careful in what I did to be polite and I believe all the other Suffragettes were the same. On Friday I took to my bed and the doctor told me that if I persisted I should get a fever, but I was absolutely determined to do my part, at whatever sacrifice, and I told the Governor that so long as I was responsible for my action I should refuse to take food.