“You think, Emilie, that what you desire so much, that what you dared not ask me, out of respect for the will of my father; you think that my dismissal from the service is not a question.
“There is not now an hour, a minute of my life, which does not belong to our child. If I have yielded to your entreaties with so much regret, poor wife, because I desired to follow the last request of my father faithfully, now it need be so no longer. Although our wealth is considerable, we must neglect nothing now which can increase it.
“Heretofore we have trusted to agents the management of our affairs; now I shall undertake them myself.
“That will be so much gained for our child. When the lease of our farms near Lyons has expired, we ourselves will put our lands in good condition.
“You know, my love, the dream of my life has been to lead the life of a country gentleman in the midst of sweet and sacred family joys. Your tastes, your character, your angelic virtues, fit you also for the enjoyment of such peaceful pleasures and associations. What more can I say, my Emilie, my blessed angel of God?
“I have just been interrupted. The lazaretto boat is leaving this moment.
“I am in despair when I think of the long mortal month which still separates me from the spot where I shall fall on my knees, and we shall join our hands in thanking God for his gift.”
This artless letter, puerile perhaps in its detail, but which pictured a happiness so profound, which spoke of hopes so radiant, was enclosed in another letter, bearing this address, “To the Commander Pierre des Anbiez,” and containing the following words, written in haste, and with a weak and trembling hand:
Second Letter.
“December 13th, midnight.