M.Emile Leroux had simply interrupted a conversation which had been begun.
"Don't interfere with our friendly patter," cried out his thief neighbor, who for this exclamation was thrown into the dungeon.
Such was the life of the Representatives at Mazas.

Moreover, as they were in secret confinement, not a book, not a sheet of paper, not a pen, not even an hour's exercise in the courtyard was allowed to them.
The thieves also go to Mazas, as we have seen.
But those who know a trade are permitted to work; those who know how to read are supplied with books; those who know how to write are granted a desk and paper; all are permitted the hour's exercise required by the laws of health and authorized by the rules.
The Representatives were allowed nothing whatever.

Isolation, close confinement, silence, darkness, cold, "the amount of _ennui_ which engenders madness," as Linguet has said when speaking of the Bastille.
To remain seated on a chair all day long, with arms and legs crossed: such was the situation.

But the bed! Could they lie down?
No.
There was no bed.
At eight o'clock in the evening the jailer came into the cell, and reached down, and removed something which was rolled up on a plank near the ceiling.

This "something" was a hammock.
The hammock having been fixed, hooked up, and spread out, the jailer wished his prisoner "Good-night." There was a blanket on the hammock, sometimes a mattress some two inches thick.