his wish, the only one that I form, I address myself to you, my
dear parents, and to you and yours, my dear brothers and sisters.

"I cannot hope to see a twenty-fifth new year; so may the prayer that I
have just made be granted! May this picture of my present state afford
you some tranquillity, and may this letter that I write to you from the
depths of my heart not only prove to you that I am not unworthy of the
inexpressible love that you all display, but, on the contrary, ensure
this love to me for eternity.

"Within the last few days I have also received your dear letter of the
2nd of December, my kind mother, and the grind-duke's commission has
deigned to let me also read my kind brother's letter which accompanied
yours. You give me the best of news in regard to the health of all of
you, and send me preserved fruits from our dear home. I thank you for
them from the bottom of my heart. What causes me most joy in the matter
is that you have been solicitously busy about me in summer as in winter,
and that you and my dear Julia gathered them and prepared them for me at
home, and I abandon my whole soul to that sweet enjoyment.

"I rejoice sincerely at my little cousin's coming into the world; I
joyfully congratulate the good parents and the grandparents; I transport
myself, for his baptism, into that beloved parish, where I offer him my
affection as his Christian brother, and call down on him all the
blessings of heaven.

"We shall be obliged, I think, to give up this correspondence, so as not
to inconvenience the grand-duke's commission. I finish, therefore, by
assuring you, once more, but for the last time, perhaps, of my profound
filial submission and of my fraternal affection.--Your most tenderly
attached
"KARL-LUDWIG SAND."

Indeed, from that moment all correspondence between Karl and his family
ceased, and he only wrote to them, when he knew his fate, one more
letter, which we shall see later on.

We have seen by what attentions Sand was surrounded; their humanity never
flagged for an instant. It is the truth, too, that no one saw in him an
ordinary murderer, that many pitied him under their breath, and that some
excused him aloud. The very commission appointed by the grand-duke
prolonged the affair as much as possible; for the severity of Sand's
wounds had at first given rise to the belief that there would be no need
of calling in the executioner, and the commission was well pleased that
God should