As you see, my dear Lucie, I hope that when you receive these last
letters the truth shall not be far from being known and that we shall
enjoy again the happiness that was our lot until now.
* * * * *
_11 June, 1895._
My dear Lucie:
Yesterday I received all your letters up to the 7th of March--that is to
say the first which you addressed to me here--also the letter of your
mother and the letters of your brothers and sisters, dating from the
same time.
I wish to answer you while I am still under the spell of them. First of
all I must speak to you of the immense joy I felt in reading the words
written by your hand. It was something of yourself, a part of you,
which had sought me out; it was your good, noble heart come to warm and
revive mine.
I saw also in your letters what I had already felt--how you all have
suffered in this horrible tragedy which has come upon us, surprising us
in our happiness and tearing from us our honor. This one word tells
everything, it sums up all our tortures--mine and yours.
I know that from the day when I promised you to live, to wait for the
truth to be revealed, for justice to be done me, I ought not to have
faltered. I ought to have silenced the voice of my heart; I ought to
have waited patiently, but how could I? I had not the strength of soul.
The blow was too heavy. All within me revolted at the thought of the
odious crime for which I had been condemned. My heart will bleed as long
as this mantle of infamy weighs upon my shoulders.
But I ask you to forgive me if I have sometimes written you excited or
complaining letters, that must have augmented your immense grief. Your
heart and mine beat as one.
Be sure, then, my dear and good Lucie, that I shall resist with all my
strength, so that I may reach the day when my happiness shall be given
back to me. I hope that that day may come soon; until then we must look
straight before us.
The news, too, you give me of our dear children has given me pleasure.
Make them spend a great deal of time in the open air. Just now you must
think only of giving them health and strength.
Courage then, still, dear Lucie; be strong and valiant. May my profound
love sustain and guide you. My thoughts do not leave you for an instant,
night or day.
Give news of me to all the family; thank them all for their good and
affectionate letters. I have not the courage to answer them, and of what
could I speak to them? I have but one thought, always the same--that of
seeing the day when my honor shall be given back to me. I am always
hoping that that day is near.
Embrace all your dear relations, the children, all our family, for me.
As for you, I embrace you with all the strength of my heart.