ALFRED.

A thousand kisses to your dear parents, to all I love.

* * * * *

_9 January, 1898._

After long and terrible waiting I have just received, altogether, the

mails of October and November.

I need not tell you what indescribable emotion seizes me when I read the

letters of those whom I love so much, of those for whom I would give my

blood, drop by drop; of those for whose sake I live.

Had I thought, darling, of myself alone, long ago should I have been in

my grave; it is the thought of you, the thought of our children, that

sustains me, that lifts me up when I am bowed under the weight of so

much suffering. I told you in my last letters all that I have done, of

all the appeals that I have again made for you and for our children.

If the light that we have awaited for more than three years is not shown

now, it will shine forth in a future that we know not.

As I told you in one of my letters, our children are growing; their

situation, that of us all, is terrible; the situation I am supporting

only by supreme effort is becoming absolutely impossible to bear. That

is why I have placed our lot, our children’s lot, in the hands of the

Minister of War, asking that at last an end may be made of our appalling

martyrdom. That is why I have again asked the Minister of War to restore

to us our honor.

I await his answer with the greatest impatience, and I am hoping that

this appalling torment may have at last an end.

I embrace you, as I love you, with all the power of my love, with all my

tenderness, as also I embrace our adored children.

Your devoted

ALFRED.

A thousand kisses to your dear parents, to all our family.

* * * * *

_25 January, 1898._

My dear and good Lucie:

I shall not write to you at length to-day; I suffer too deeply for you

and for our children; I feel too keenly all your appalling anguish, your

frightful martyrdom. At the very thought of it my heart beats heavily,

as if weighed down by unshed tears. No human word could lessen the

horror of your anguish.

I told you in my last letters what I had done; during the last few days

I have renewed my appeals; the light we have so long waited for is not

yet seen; it will be seen only in a future that no one can foretell. The

situation is terrible, terrible for you, for the children, for all. As

for me, it is needless for me to tell you what it is.

I have asked the President of the Republic, the Minister of War, and

General de Boisdeffre for my rehabilitation, for a new trial. I have put

the fate of so many innocent victims, the fate of our children, into

their hands; I have entrusted the future of our children to General de

Boisdeffre. I await their answer with feverish impatience, with all that

remains to me of my strength.

I want to hope that there may yet be one minute of happiness for me upon

this earth; but what I have not the right to doubt is that justice shall

be done, that justice shall be done to you at least--to you, to our

children. I say to you, then, “Courage and Confidence!”

I embrace you as I love you, with all that my heart contains of deep

affection for you, for our adored children, for your dear parents, for

all our friends.