I repeat it then, my dear Lucie, my confidence and my faith are absolutely alike in the efforts of one and all. I am absolutely certain that light shall be let in, and that is the essential thing—but it will be in a future that we know not.
For, alas! the energies of the heart, the forces of the brain, have their limits in a situation as atrocious as mine. I know, too, what you suffer, and it is appalling.
This is why, often, in the moments of my anguish—for it is not possible to suffer so slowly without cries of agony, having but one wish to express, to be with you and with our children on the day when honor shall be given back to us—I have asked you to take steps to appeal to the Government, to those persons who possess sure, decisive means of investigation—means that they only have the right to employ.
Whatever may come of it, and I think I have clearly expressed my thought, my conviction, I can but repeat to you with all my soul, Confidence and Faith! and wish for you, as for me, as for us all, that the efforts of one or of another may soon be crowned with success and may put an end to this appalling martyrdom of the soul.
I embrace you as I love you, as I embrace also our dear children, from the depths of my heart.
Your devoted
Alfred.
Kisses to all.
4 January, 1897.