But he lived. And he may still live to see in his appalling experience the cause of social revolution in France--a revolution that shall make the rights of the individual paramount to the traditions of the army, to the subtle cravings of the clericals, to the fantastic schemers of the Faubourg St. Germain. THE LETTERS LETTERS OF AN INNOCENT MAN * * * * * PRISON OF CHERCHE-MIDI _Tuesday, 5 December, 1894._ My dear Lucie: At last I can write a word to you; they have just told me that my trial is set for the 19th of this month. I am refused the right to see you. I will not tell you all that I have suffered; there are not in the world words strong enough to express it. Do you remember when I used to tell you how happy we were? Everything in life smiled on us. Then all at once a fearful thunderbolt; my brain still is reeling with the shock. For me to be accused of the most monstrous crime that a soldier can commit! Even to-day I feel that I must be the victim of an awful nightmare. But I hope in God and in justice. In the end the truth must come to light. My conscience is calm and tranquil. It reproaches me with nothing. I have done my duty, never have I turned from it. I have been crushed to the earth, buried in my dark prison; alone with my reeling brain. There have been moments when I have been nearly crazed, ferocious, beside myself, but even in those moments my conscience was on guard--“Hold up thy head!” it said to me. “Look the world in the face! Strong in thy conscience go straight onward! Rise! The trial is bitter, but it must be undergone!” I cannot write any longer, for I want this letter to leave to-night. I embrace you a thousand times, as I love you, as I adore you, my darling Lucie. A thousand kisses to the children. I dare not say more to you; the tears come to my eyes when I think of them. Write to me soon. ALFRED. Give my love to all the family. Tell them that I am to-day what I was yesterday, having but one care, to do my duty. The Commissary of the Government has informed me that Me. Demange will defend me. I think that I shall see him to-morrow. Write to me to the prison. Your letters, like mine, will pass through the hands of the government commissioner. * * * * * _Thursday morning, 7 December, 1894._