But I hope for us both, my poor beloved, for us all, that the efforts, either of one or of another, may soon bring about their result; that the day of justice may at last dawn for us all, who have waited for it so long.
Each time I write to you I hardly can lay down my pen, not that I have anything to tell you, . . . but because I am again about to leave you for long days, living only in my thoughts of you, of the children, of you all.
So I will end by embracing you and my dear children, your dear parents, all of our dear brothers and sisters, in pressing you in my arms with all my strength, and repeating with an energy that nothing can weaken, so long as the breath of life is in my body, "Courage, courage and determination!"
A thousand kisses more.
Your devoted
Alfred.
And for you all, dear parents, and dear brothers and sisters, courage and indomitable will that nothing should shake, that nothing should weaken.
2 October, 1897.
My dear Lucie:
I have just received your dear letters of August, also a few from the family.
I wish with you, for you, for us all, that the light of justice may shine at last and that we may at last perceive the end of our martyrdom, that has been as long drawn out as it has been appalling.
Indeed, I have already told you in long letters that
