But whatever may come of it, again I repeat to you always, with all the strength of my soul, Courage! Courage! Our children, your duty, are for you supports that no human suffering should weaken.
I wish, then, simply to send you, while I wait for your dear letters, the echo of my profound love, to embrace you with all my heart, as I love you, and also our dear, adored children.
Alfred.
My best kisses to your parents, to all our friends. I need not write to them; all our hearts beat in unison.
5 March, 1897.
My dear and good Lucie:
I wrote you a few lines the 20th of February while I was waiting for your dear letters, which have not yet reached me. I have just learned that, in consequence of an accident to the machinery, the steamer has not yet arrived at Guiana.
As I told you in my last letter, we know too well, each one of us, the horrible acuteness of our sufferings, to give us any reason to speak of it.
But I would, if it were possible, impregnate this cold and commonplace paper with all that my heart contains for you, for our children. At every instant of the day and of the night you tell yourself that my thought is with them; and that when my heart can bear no more, when the too-full cup overflows, it is in murmuring these three names that are so dear to me, it is in telling myself always, that for their sakes I must live to see the day when honor shall be given back to the name of my
