Yes, truly, all this is appalling. No human word can express such sorrows, and sometimes I have wanted to shriek out, so inexpressible is such anguish. I also have terrible moments, atrocious moments, the more appalling because they are restrained, because never a complaint escapes my silent lips, when reason is submerged, and all that is in me is agonized, cries out in revolt. I have told you that for a long time in my dreams I have often thought, “Ah, yes, to hold one of those miserable accomplices of the author of that crime between my hands for a few minutes--and were I compelled to tear his skin from him shred by shred, I should make him confess this vile machination against our country;” but all that, sorrows and thoughts, they are only sentiments, they are only dreams, and it is the reality that we must see. And the reality is this, always the same: it is that in this horrible affair there is a double interest at stake--that of the country, our own--and one is as sacred as the other. It is for this reason that I will not try to understand, I will not try to know, why they have made me thus fall under the weight of all these tortures. My life belongs to my country, to-day as yesterday it is hers, let her take it; but if my life belongs to her, her imprescriptible duty is to see to it that the light, full and entire, shall shine upon this horrible drama, for my honor does not belong to the country, it is the patrimony of our children, of our families. So now, dear Lucie, I shall repeat always, to you and to all, stifle your hearts, compress your brains; as for you, you must be heroically, invincibly, at once a mother and a Frenchwoman. Now, darling, I cannot speak to you of myself any more. If you could know all that I have been subjected to, all that I have borne, your soul would shiver with horror, and yet I am a human being who has a heart, a heart swollen to bursting, and I need, I thirst for rest. Oh, think how many appalling minutes are contained in one day of twenty-four hours, in the most complete, the most absolute idleness, with nothing to do but twirl my thumbs--alone with my thoughts! If I have been able to resist so many torments until now it is because I have often called up the thought of you, of the children, of you all, and then I realized what you suffer, what you all suffer. Then, darling, accept everything, whatever may come; bear it, suffer in silence, like a true human soul, exalted and very proud--the soul of a mother who is resolved to see the name she bears, the name her children bear, cleansed from this horrible stain. Then to you, as to you all, again and always, “Courage, courage!” You must kiss the dear children for me and tell them how dearly I love them. And you must also kiss your dear brothers and sisters, and all my family for me. And for yourself, for our dear children, all that my heart contains of unfailing love. ALFRED. * * * * * _4 May, 1897._