Monbrun knew immediately that he was discovered; but he never for
an instant lost the self-possession for which he was famous. He
said he wished to have five minutes allowed him to deliberate
quietly in bed, whether he should resist the French authorities
on English ground, and so gain time by obliging the one
Government to apply specially to have him delivered up by the
other--or whether he should accept the terms officially offered
to him by the agent, if he quietly allowed himself to be
captured. He chose the latter course--it was suspected, because
he wished to communicate personally with some of his convict
associates in France, whose fraudulent gains were in his keeping,
and because he felt boastfully confident of being able to escape
again, whenever he pleased. Be his secret motives, however, what
they might, he allowed the agent to conduct him peaceably from
the Grange; first writing a farewell letter to poor Rosamond,
full of heartless French sentiment and glib sophistries about
Fate and Society. His own fate was not long in overtaking him. He
attempted to escape again, as it had been expected he would, and
was shot by the sentinel on duty at the time. I remember hearing
that the bullet entered his head and killed him on the spot.
My story is done. It is ten years now since Rosamond was buried
in the churchyard yonder; and it is ten years also since Miss
Welwyn returned to be the lonely inhabitant of Glenwith Grange.
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