It is still to you that I write, for you are the only cord that binds me to life. I know well that all my family, all your family, love me and esteem me; but, after all, if I were to disappear, their grief, however great, would fade with the years. It is for you alone, my poor darling, that I gather strength to struggle. It is the thought of you that stays my arm. How I feel in this hour my love for you! Never has it been so great--so all absorbing. And then a feeble hope sustains me yet a little; it is that we shall be able some day to have my good name restored to me. But, above all, believe me, if I should have strength to struggle to the end of this calvary, it will be for your sake alone, my poor darling; it will be to avoid adding a new chagrin to all those you have already borne. Do all that is humanly possible to get to see me. I embrace you a thousand times, as I love you. ALFRED. * * * * * _In the night between Monday and Tuesday, 24 December, 1894._ My dear Adored one: I have just received your letter; I hope that you have received mine. Poor darling, how you must suffer, how I pity you! I have wept many tears over your letter. I cannot accept your sacrifice. You must stay there; you must live for the children. Think of them first, before you think of me; it is the poor, little ones who absolutely need you. My thoughts always lead me back to you. Me. Demange, who has just been here, has told me how wonderful you are. He has spoken words in your praise to which my heart gave back the echo. Yes, my darling, you are sublime in your courage and devotion. You are worth more than I. I loved you before with all my heart and soul; to-day I do more--I marvel at you. You are truly one of the noblest women upon the earth. My admiration for you is so great that if I live to drink my cup to the dregs it will be because I have aspired to be worthy of your heroism. But it will be terrible to submit to that shameful humiliation! I should rather stand before an execution squad. I do not fear death, but the thought of contempt is terrible. However it may be, I pray you tell them all to life their heads as I lift mine; to look the world in the face without flinching. Never bow your heads--proclaim my innocence aloud. Now, my darling, I am going anew to lay my head upon my pillow to think of you. I kiss you; I press you to my heart. ALFRED. Embrace the little ones tenderly for me. Will you please deposit two hundred francs with the clerk of the prison? * * * * * _25 December, 1894._ My Darling: I cannot date this letter, for I do not even know what day it is. Is it Tuesday? Is it Wednesday? I do not know. It is always night. As sleep flies my eyelids I arise to write to you. Sometimes it seems to me that all this has not happened; that I have never left you. In my hallucinations all that has happened to us seems to me a bad nightmare; but the awakening is terrible.