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.
A thousand kisses more from your devoted
Alfred.
26 January, 1898.
My dear Lucie:
In the last letters that I wrote to you I told you what I had done; to whom I had entrusted our fate, the fate of our children; what appeals I had sent forth. It is needless to tell you with what anxiety I am awaiting an
