He said it with no great sinking of heart, with no fear. It was the solution of all; it was his only way to honour.
The soldiers were halted a little distance from the two; and the officer commanding, after a dull mechanical preamble, in the name of the Government, formally called upon Valmond and Lagroin to surrender themselves, or suffer the perils of resistance.
"Never!" broke out Lagroin, and, drawing his sword, he shouted: "Vive
Napoleon! The Old Guard never surrenders!"
Then he made as if to rush forward on the troops. "Fire!" called the officer.
Twenty rifles blazed out. Lagroin tottered back, and fell at the feet of his master.
Raising himself, he clasped Valmond's knee, and, looking up, said gaspingly:
"Adieu, sire! I love you; I die for you." His head fell at his
Emperor's feet, though the hands still clutched the knee.
Valmond stood over his body, one leg on either side, and drew a pistol.
"Surrender, monsieur," said the officer, "or we fire!"
"Never! A Napoleon knows how to die!" was the reply, and he raised his pistol at the officer.