“Madame Drucour is herself a soldier; she can appreciate the talents of the soldiers,” he said.  “Well, we have Wolfe coming, and with him three gallant Brigadiers—­Moncton and Townshend and Murray.  They all say that each one of these is as valiant as the great Wolfe himself, and as full of ardour.”

“And then our guns!” chimed in the third.  “Why, we have guns enough to batter down these old walls as children batter down their card houses!  You know what English guns did at Louisbourg, Madame!  Well, we have bigger and heavier ones coming from England—­such guns as have never been seen in this country before; and such shells—­why, you can hear the scream of them for miles.  You will hear them soon singing and screaming over Quebec if you try to hold it against Wolfe!”

Corinne and Colin exchanged glances.  It seemed indeed to bring the thought of war very near when this sort of talk went on.  The Abbe was thoughtfully stroking his chin, debating within himself whether all this was a bit of gasconade on the part of these middies, or whether it represented the actual facts of the case.  Madame Drucour made quiet answer, saying: 

“But Quebec has also its guns, my young friends; Quebec can make fitting reply to English guns.  And ships are more vulnerable than our thick walls.  The game of war is one that both nations can play with skill and success.  If you have a Wolfe on your side, we have a Montcalm on ours!”

“Oh yes; we have heard of the Marquis of Montcalm.  He is a fine old fellow; I wish we could see him.”

“You have your wish, gentlemen!” spoke a new voice from the shadowy corner by the door, where the twilight was gathering.

The company started to their feet and saluted the great man, who advanced smiling, motioning them to be seated.  Corinne kindled the lamp, and the General looked about him and sat down at the table opposite to the three youths.

“I hear you are from the English squadron,” he said; “I have come to ask you as to its strength.  Tell me frankly and candidly what you know, and I will undertake that your captivity shall not be a rigorous one.”

He spoke in French, and the Abbe interpreted, although he suspected that the lads understood a good deal more of that language than they professed to do.  They were willing enough to repeat what they had said before as to the overwhelming size and equipment of the fleet on its way from England—­of the valour of men and officers, of Wolfe’s known intrepidity and military genius, and of the excellent, far-carrying guns and their equally excellent gunners.

Montcalm listened with bent brow and thoughtful mien.  The lads appeared to speak with confidence and sincerity.  They evidently believed that the fall of Quebec was foreordained of Heaven; but it was possible they might be misinformed as to the true strength of the fleet, and had perhaps, consciously or unconsciously, exaggerated that.