[1] Reprinted by permission from The Spectator.
"Who never ceases still to strive,
'T is him we can deliver."
"Courbe la tête fier Segambre; adore ce qui tu as brûlé;
brûle ce qui tu as adoré!"
[I]
THE HAND OF THE INVISIBLE
With a feeling of wild joy I returned from the northern railway station, where I had said good-bye to my wife. She was going to our child, who was ill in a distant place. The sacrifice of my heart was then fulfilled. Her last words, "When shall we meet again?" and my answer, "Soon!" echoed in my ears, like falsehoods which one is unwilling to confess. A foreboding said to me "Never!" And, as a matter of fact, these parting words which we exchanged in November, 1894, were our last, for to this present time, May, 1897, I have not seen my dear wife again.