To your mother I leave my fortune; my aunt I leave to Christ, in whose love she will find consolation in her declining years, and I follow you—­because I must.  Do you think I am not afraid of death?  I am afraid because I do not know what there is, and see only darkness without end; which makes me recoil.  I do not know whether there be nothingness, or existence without space and time; perhaps some midplanetary wind carries the spiritual monad from star to star to implant it in an ever-renewing existence.  I do not know whether there be immense restlessness, or a peace so perfect as only Omnipotence and Love can bestow on us.  But since you have died through my “I do not know,” how could I remain here—­and live?

The more I fear, the more I do not know,—­the more I cannot let you go alone; I cannot, Aniela mine,—­and I follow.  Together we shall sink into nothingness, or together begin a new life; and here below where we have suffered let us be buried in oblivion.