_Thursday, 11 o’clock in the evening._
My Darling:
The nights are long; it is to you that I turn again and again; it is in
your eyes that I look for all my strength. It is in your profound love
that I find the courage to live. Not that the struggle makes me afraid,
but truly fate is too cruel to me. Could one imagine a situation more
awful, more tragic, for an innocent man? Could there be a martyrdom more
fraught with sorrow?
Happy is it for me that I have the deep affection with which both our
families surround me--that above everything I have your love, which pays
me for all my sufferings.
Forgive me if sometimes I complain; do not think that my soul is less
valiant because a groan escapes my lips; these cries relieve my heart;
and to whom could I cry if not to you, my dear wife?
A thousand kisses for you and for the little ones.