The Sun Of Quebec Part 39

"We may meet somewhere to-morrow, Grosvenor," he said, "but neither of us knows where, nor under what circ.u.mstances."

"Just so we meet after victory, that's enough," said Grosvenor.

"Aye, so it is."

The boom of a cannon came from down the river, it was followed by another and another and then by many, singularly clear in the September twilight. A powerful British fleet ranged up in front of the Beauport sh.o.r.e and opened a fierce fire on the French redoubts. It seemed as if Wolfe were trying to force a landing there, and the French guns replied.

In the distance, with the thunder of the cannonade and the flashes of fire, it looked as if a great battle were raging.

"It is nothing," said Willet to Robert, "or rather it is only a feint.

It will make Montcalm below the town think he is going to be attacked, and it will make Bougainville above it rest more easily. The French are already worn down by their efforts in racing back and forth to meet us.

Our command over the water is a wonderful thing, and it alone makes victory possible."

Robert, Willet and Tayoga with a dozen rangers went into a long boat, whence they looked up at the tall s.h.i.+ps that carried the army, and waited as patiently as they could for the order to move.

"See the big fellow over there," said Willet, pointing to one of the s.h.i.+ps.

Robert nodded.

"That's the _Sutherland_, and she carries General Wolfe. Like the boat of Caesar, she bears our fortunes."

"Truly 'tis so," said Robert.

A good breeze was blowing down the river, and, at that moment, the stars were out.

"I see Tododaho with the wise snakes in his hair," said Tayoga in an awed whisper, "and he looks directly down at me. His eyes speak more plainly than his whisper that I heard in the twilight. Now, I know that some mighty event is going to happen, and that the dawn will be heavy with the fate of men."

The sullen boom of a cannon came from a point far down the river, and then the sullen boom of another replying. Quebec, on its rock, lay dark and silent. Robert was shaken by a kind of s.h.i.+ver, and a thrill of tremendous antic.i.p.ation shot through him. He too knew instinctively that they were upon the threshold of some mighty event. Whatever happened, he could say, if he lived, that he was there, and, if he fell, he would at least die a glorious death. His was the thrill of youth, and it was wholly true.

It was two hours past midnight and the ebb tide set in. The good wind was still blowing down the river. Two lanterns went aloft in the rigging of the _Sutherland_, and the signal for one of the great adventures of history was given. All the troops had gone into boats earlier in the evening, and now they pulled silently down the stream, Wolfe in one of the foremost.

Robert sat beside Tayoga, and Willet was just in front of them. Some of the stars were still out, but there was no moon and the night was dark.

It seemed that all things had agreed finally to favor Wolfe's supreme and last effort. The boats carrying the army were invisible from the lofty cliffs and no spying canoes were on the stream to tell that they were there. Robert gazed up at the black heights, and wondered where were the French.

"Are we going directly against Quebec?" he whispered to Willet. "'Tis impossible to storm it upon its heights."

"Nay, lad, nothing is impossible. As you see, we go toward Quebec and I think we land in the rear of it. 'Tis young men who lead us, the boldest of young men, and they will dare anything. But I tell you, Robert, our coming to Quebec is very different from what it was when we came here with a message from the Governor of the Province of New York."

"And our reception is like to be different, too. What was that? It sounded like the splash of a paddle ahead of us."

"It was only a great fish leaping out of the water and then falling back again," said Tayoga. "There is no enemy on the stream. Truly Manitou to-night has blinded the French and the warriors, their allies. Montcalm is a great leader, and so is St. Luc, but they do not know what is coming. We shall meet them in the morning. Tododaho has said so to me."

The boats pa.s.sed on in their slow drifting with the tide. Once near to a lofty headland, they were hailed by a French sentinel, who heard the creaking of the boats, and who saw dim outlines in the dark, but a Scotch officer, who spoke good French, made a satisfactory reply. The boats drifted on, and the sentinel went back to his dreams, perhaps of the girl that he had left in France.

"Did I not tell you that Manitou had blinded the French and the warriors, their allies, to-night?" whispered Tayoga to Robert.

"Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the sentinel would have asked more, or he would have insisted upon seeing more in the dark, but Manitou dulled his senses. The good spirits are abroad, and they work for us."

"Truly, I believe it is so, Tayoga," said Robert.

"The French don't lack in vigilance, but they must be worn out," said Willet. "It's one thing to sail on s.h.i.+ps up and down a river, but it's quite another for an army racing along lofty, rough and curving sh.o.r.es to keep pace with it."

They were challenged from another point of vantage by a sentinel and they saw him running down to the St. Lawrence, pistol in hand, to make good his question. But the same Scotch officer who had answered the first placated him, telling him that theirs were boats loaded with provisions, and not to make a noise or the English would hear him. Again was French vigilance lulled, and they pa.s.sed on around the headland above Anse du Foulon.

"The omens are ours," whispered Tayoga, with deep conviction. "Now, I know that we shall arrive at the place to which we want to go. Unless Manitou wishes us to go there, he would not have twice dulled the senses of French sentinels who could have brought a French army down upon us while we are yet in the river. And, lo! here where we are going to land there is no sentinel!"

"Under heaven, I believe you're right, Tayoga!" exclaimed Willet, with intense earnestness.

The boats swung in to the narrow beach at the foot of the lofty cliff and the men disembarked rapidly. Then, hanging to rocks and shrubs, they began to climb. There was still no alarm, and Robert held his breath in suspense, and in amazement too. He did not know just where they were, but they could not be very far from Quebec, and General Wolfe was literally putting his head in the lion's mouth. He knew, and every one around him knew, that it was now victory or death. He felt again that tremendous thrill. Whatever happened, he would be in it. He kept repeating that fact to himself and the thought of death was not with him.

"The dawn will soon be at hand," he said; "I feel it coming. If we can have only a half hour more! Only a half hour!"

"It will come with clouds," said Tayoga. "Manitou still favors us. He wills that we shall reach the top."

Robert made another pull and surmounted the crest. Everywhere the soldiers were pouring over the top. A small body of French sentinels was taken by surprise. Some of them were captured, and the others escaped in the dusk to carry the alarm to the city, to Montcalm and to Bougainville. But Wolfe was on the heights before Quebec. From points farther up the river came the crash of cannon. It was the French batteries firing upon the last of the boats, and upon the s.h.i.+ps bringing down the rest of the troops. But it was too late to stop the British army, which included Americans, who were then British too.

"The dawn is here," said Tayoga.

The east was breaking slowly into dull light. Heavy clouds were floating up from the west, and the air was damp with the promise of rain. The British army was forming rapidly into line of battle, but no army was in front of it. The daring enterprise of the night was a complete success, and Montcalm had been surprised. He was yet to know that his enemy had scaled the heights and was before Quebec.

"We've gained a field of battle for ourselves," said Willet, "and it's now for us to win the battle itself."

The mind of Wolfe was at its supreme activity. A detachment, sent swiftly, seized the battery at Samos that was firing upon the s.h.i.+ps and boats. Another battery, farther away at Sillery, was taken also, and the landing of additional troops was covered. A party of Canadians who came out of the town to see who these intrusive strangers might be, were driven back in a hurry, and then Wolfe and his officers advanced to choose their ground, the rangers hovering on the flanks of the regulars.

Where the plateau was only a mile wide and before Quebec, the general took his stand with the lofty cliffs of the St. Lawrence on the south and the meadows of the St. Charles on the north. The field, the famous Plains of Abraham, was fairly level with corn fields and bushes here and there. A battalion of the Royal Americans was placed to guard the ford of the St. Charles, but Robert saw the others, his friends among them, formed up in the front ranks, where the brunt of the battle would fall.

Another regiment was in reserve. The rangers, with Robert, Tayoga and Willet, still hovered on the flanks.

Robert felt intense excitement. He always believed afterward that he understood even at that instant the greatness of the cloudy dawn that had come, and the momentous nature of the approaching conflict, holding in its issue results far greater than those of many a battle in which ten times the numbers were engaged.

"How far away is Quebec?" he asked.

"Over there about a mile," replied Willet. "We can't see it because the ridge that the French call the b.u.t.tes-a-Neveu comes in between."

"But look!" exclaimed Robert. "See, what is on the ridge!"

The stretch of broken ground was suddenly covered with white uniforms.

They were French soldiers, the battalion of Guienne, aroused in their camp near the St. Charles River by the firing, and come swiftly to see what was the matter. There they stood, staring at the scarlet ranks, drawn up in battle before them, unable to credit their eyes at first, many of them believing for the moment that it was some vision of the cloudy dawn.

"I think that Montcalm's army will soon come," said Willet to Robert.

"You see, we're literally between three fires. We're facing the garrison of Quebec, while we have Montcalm on one side of us and Bougainville on the other. The question is which will it be, Bougainville or Montcalm, but I think it will be Montcalm."

"I know it will be Montcalm," said Robert, "and I know too that when he comes St. Luc will be with him."

"Aye, St. Luc will be with him. That's sure."

It was even so. Montcalm was already on his way. The valiant general of France, troubled by the hovering armies and fleets of Britain, uncertain where they intended to strike or whether they meant to strike at all, had pa.s.sed a sleepless night. At dawn the distant boom of the cannon, firing at the English s.h.i.+ps above the town, had come to his ears. An officer sent for news to the headquarters of the Marquis de Vaudreuil, the Governor-General of New France, much nearer to the town, had not returned, and, mounting, he galloped swiftly with one of his aides to learn the cause of the firing. Near the Governor-General's house they caught a distant gleam of the scarlet ranks of Wolfe's army, nearly two miles away.

When Montcalm saw that red flash his agitation and excitement became intense. It is likely that he understood at once the full danger, that he knew the crisis for Canada and France was at hand. But he dispatched immediately the orders that would bring his army upon the scene. The Governor-General, already alarmed, came out of his house and they exchanged a few words. Then Montcalm galloped over the bridge across the St. Charles and toward the British army. It is stated of him that during this ride his face was set and that he never spoke once to his aides.

Behind Montcalm came his army, hurrying to the battle-field, and, taking the quickest course, it pa.s.sed through Quebec, entering at the Palace Gate and pa.s.sing out through those of St. Louis and St. John, hastening, always hastening, to join the battalion of Guienne, which already stood in its white uniforms and beneath its banners on the b.u.t.tes-a-Neveu.