Young Wolfe had one friend out With the expedition, and from him he had received a letter only a short time ago, telling him of all the delays and procrastinations which were already beginning to render abortive a well-planned scheme.  It made his blood boil in his veins to think how the incapacity of those in command doomed the hopes of so many to such bitter disappointment, and lowered the prestige of England in the eyes of the whole civilized world.

“If Pitt could but have a free hand, things would be different!” exclaimed Wolfe again, speaking aloud, as is the fashion of lonely men.  “But the King is beginning to value and appreciate him, and the nation is learning confidence.  The time will come—­yes, the time will come!  Heaven send that I live to see the day, and have a hand in the glorious work!”

As he spoke these words he observed a certain excitement amongst the dogs playing around him, and guessed that their quick ears had caught sounds of an arrival of some sort.  In a few minutes’ time his servant approached him, bearing a letter which he handed to his master, who opened it and cast his eyes over its contents.

“Are the two gentlemen here?” he asked.

“Yes, sir; they asked that the letter might be given to you, and that they might wait until you had read it.”

“Then show them out to me here, and bring us coffee,” said Wolfe, whose face had put on a look of considerable eagerness and animation; and as the servant retired towards the house, the soldier remained looking after him, as though wistful to catch the first glimpse of the expected guests.

In a few minutes they appeared in the wake of the servant.  Both were quietly dressed in sober riding suits; but there the resemblance ended.  One of the pair was a very tall man, with fair hair cut short all round his head, and a pair of large blue-grey eyes that had a trick of seeming to look through and beyond the objects upon which they were bent, and a thoroughly English type of feature; whilst his companion was more slightly built, albeit a man of fine proportions, too, with a darker face, more chiselled features, and hair dressed according to the prevailing mode, lightly powdered in front, and tied in a queue behind.

Wolfe rose slowly to his feet, his brow slightly contracting with the effort.  Upon his face there was a very attractive smile, and he held out his hand in turn to the two newcomers.

“You are very welcome, gentlemen—­more welcome than I can say.  I am grateful to my friend Sir Charles for giving me this opportunity of making your acquaintance.  It has been my great wish to speak face to face with men who have lived in that great land whither all eyes are now turning.  Be seated, I pray you, gentlemen, and tell me which of you is Mr. Julia Dautray, and which Mr. Humphrey Angell.”