When once more he set forth upon the Channel, he turned his back on
Jersey and shaped his course towards France, having sent Elizabeth his
last excuses for declining a service which would have given him honour,
fame and regard. He was bent upon a higher duty.

Not long did he wait for the death he craved. Next year, in a Huguenot
sortie from Anvers, he was slain. He died with these words on his lips:

"Maintenant, Angele!"

In due time the island people forgot them both, but the Seigneur of Rozel
caused a stone to be set up on the highest point of land that faces
France, and on the stone were carved the names of Michel and Angele.
Having done much hard service for his country and for England's Queen,
Lempriere at length hung up his sword and gave his years to peace. From
the Manor of Rozel he was wont to repair constantly to the little white
house, which remained as the two had left it,--his own by order of the
Queen,--and there, as time went on, he spent most of his days. To the
last he roared with laughter if ever the name of Buonespoir was mentioned
in his presence; he swaggered ever before the Royal Court and De Carteret
of St. Ouen's; and he spoke proudly of his friendship with the Duke's
Daughter, who had admired the cut of his jerkin at the Court of
Elizabeth. But in the house where Angele had lived he moved about as
though in the presence of a beloved sleeper he would not awake.

Michel and Angele had had their few years of exquisite life and love,
and had gone; Lempriere had longer measure of life and little love, and
who shall say which had more profit of breath and being? The generations
have passed away, and the Angel of Equity hath a smiling pity as she