I should have died for the cause as no Napoleon or Bonaparte ever died.

Like a man, I would pay the penalty Fate should set.

What more could I do?
If a man gives all he has, is not that enough?
...

There is my whole story.

Now, I shall ask your pardon, dear Cure." "You must ask pardon of God, my son," said the priest, his looks showing the anguish he felt.
"The Little Chemist said two hours, but I feel"-- his voice got very faint "I feel that he is mistaken." He murmured a prayer, and crossed himself thrice.
The Cure made ready to read the office for the dying.