* * * * *
_December, 1894._
My good Darling:
Your letter, which I had impatiently awaited, gave me great consolation
and at the same time it made me weep, for it brought me the vivid memory
of you, my darling.
I am not perfect; what man can boast of perfection? But I can assure you
truthfully that I have always gone straight forward in the way marked
out by duty and by honor.
There has been no compromise between me and my conscience. If I have
suffered deeply, if I have undergone the most horrible agony that can be
imagined, I have at all times been sustained in this awful struggle by
my conscience, which stands on guard, rigid, upright, inflexible. My
natural reserve, perhaps a haughty reserve, the freedom of my speech and
judgment to-day militate against me. I am not supple, nor a trimmer, nor
a flatterer. We never visited the people of the world who might be
useful to us now; we shut ourselves up in our own home, we were
contented to be happy in ourselves.
And to-day I am accused of the most monstrous crime a soldier can
commit!
Oh, if I could but hold the wretch who not only has betrayed his
country, but who, besides, has tried to make me bear the burden of his
infamy, I do not know what suffering I could not invent to make him
expiate the agony which he has forced me to undergo! But we must not
despair--they must at last find the guilty one. Without that hope we
should have to believe that there is no justice in the world.
Bend all your efforts to reveal the truth; and bring to bear upon them
all your intellect, if need be all my fortune.
Money is nothing. Our Honor is All! Tell M[_athieu Dreyfus_] that I
count upon him for this work. It is not beyond his power. He must find
the wretch who has dishonored us, even though he should move Heaven and
Earth. I embrace you a thousand times, as I love you.
Your devoted
ALFRED.
A thousand kisses for the children.
All my love to all the members of our families; thank them for their
devotion to the cause of an innocent man.
* * * * *
_Monday, 11 December._
My good Darling:
I have received your letter of yesterday; also the letters from your
sister and from Henri. Let us hope that soon justice will be done me and
that I shall once more be with you all. With you and with our dear
children I shall find the calm that now I need so much.
My heart is deeply wounded; you know that it must be so. To have
consecrated all my strength, all my intelligence, to the service of my
country, and then to be accused of the most monstrous crime that a
soldier can commit--it is fearful!
At the very thought of it my whole being revolts; I tremble with
indignation. I ask myself by what miracle I have been kept from going
mad. How has my brain resisted such a shock!
I supplicate you, my darling, do not go to my trial. It can do no good
for you to impose new sufferings upon yourself; those that you have
already borne, with a grandeur of soul and with a heroism of which I am
proud, are more than sufficient. Save your strength for our children. We
shall need all our united strength to care for each other, to help each
other to forget this terrible trial--the most terrible that human
strength can bear. Kiss all our good, dear ones for me, until the time
comes when I can embrace them for myself. Remember me fondly to all.