“And will you remain within the walls of Quebec yourself, my dear Marquis? or is it true what I hear—­that your headquarters will be with the camp at Beauport?”

“My place is here—­there—­everywhere!” answered Montcalm, with a smile and a meaning gesture.  “Within the city the Chevalier de Ramesay will hold command with sixteen thousand men.  For my part, I shall occupy myself chiefly with the army along the river banks.  The first peril will certainly lie there.  The town is unassailable, but a landing will probably be attempted somewhere along there.  The enemy must be driven back with loss and confusion each time such an attempt is made.  That will discourage them, and inspire our men with hope and courage.  We have also prepared fire ships at no small cost, to be launched and fired at convenient seasons, and sent adrift amongst the enemy’s ships.  The sight of their burning vessels will do something to discourage the English.  They put their trust in their ships.  We will show them what a warm welcome we have waiting for them here!”

“And our own vessels,” asked the Abbe—­“what of them?  Will any naval battle he attempted?”

“No.  The Governor has given orders that they shall disembark their men for the defence of the town, and the ships themselves will be sent some distance up the river out of harm’s way.  We have kept some of the best for fire ships; the rest will remain at a distance, beyond the river Richelieu.”

“You think, then, that no British ship can pass the guns of the town?”

Montcalm’s face was a study of calm confidence.

“I only wish they might attempt it,” he said.  “We would sink them one by one, as a child’s boats could be sunk by throwing stones upon them.  The English have a task before them the magnitude of which they have little idea of.  First they have the river itself to navigate; then they have the guns of Quebec to settle with.  Let them take their choice between Scylla and Charybdis; for of a certainty they lie betwixt the two.”

Indeed the guns of Quebec were formidable enough.  Next day Montcalm took Madame Drucour and her niece and nephew a tour of inspection about the town, and up to one of the heights which gave them a panoramic view of the city and its defences, both within and without.  The batteries of the town bristled with formidable guns; the town itself swarmed with soldiers—­regulars, militia, Indians.  From the adjacent country men of all ages had come flocking in, eager to bear arms against the foe.  The Bishop had issued a mandate to his flock, urging them to rally round their leaders, and never surrender the fair domain of Canada to the heretic usurper.

There was plenty of enthusiasm now amongst the Canadians they came flocking into the camp in great numbers.  All were hardy fellows, trained to a certain sort of rough fighting from their very childhood.  They were invaluable in forest warfare, as had been proved again and again.  But they lacked the stamina of the regular soldier.  They were invariably unsteady when exposed to fire in the open, and they were impatient of discipline and control.  Vaudreuil was always loud in their praise, trying to give them the credit of every successful engagement.  But Montcalm reposed much more confidence in his regular soldiers; although he gave these others their due when they had proved of service to him.