It was quickly known that the redoubtable Wolfe had landed upon the Isle of Orleans, and was marching in a westerly direction towards the point three or four miles distant from the city where he would be able to obtain a better view than heretofore of the nature of the task to which he was pledged.

“Let him come,” said the Marquis of Montcalm grimly; “let him have from thence a good view of our brave town and its defences!  Perchance it will be a lesson to him, in his youthful pride.  He thinks he is a second Hannibal.  It will cool his hot blood, perchance, to see the welcome we are prepared to accord to the invaders of our soil.”

In effect there was another sort of welcome awaiting the English fleet; for upon the next day one of those violent squalls for which these northern waters are famous swept over the great river St. Lawrence, and in the town of Quebec there were rejoicing and triumph.

“Now let the British mariners look to themselves!” cried the people, shaking fists in the direction of the invisible fleet, which they knew was anchored off the south shore of the great island.  “We shall soon see what they can do against one of our Canadian tempests!  Pray Heaven and all the saints that it may sink every one of them to the bottom, or grind them to pieces upon the rocks!”

“Pooh! not a bit of it,” cried the midshipmen in contempt, though they watched the storm with secret anxiety.  “As though English-built vessels could not ride out a capful of wind like this!  See, it is clearing off already! in an hour’s time it will have subsided.  As though our anchors would not hold and our sailors keep their heads in such a little mock tempest as this!”

Luckily for the English fleet, the squall was as brief as it was violent; nevertheless it did do considerable damage to the ships at their anchorage, and flying rumours were brought in as to the amount of harm inflicted.  Certainly some considerable damage had been done, but nothing beyond repair.  It had not daunted one whit the hearts of the invading foe.

Montcalm came into the city that evening, and supped with the Abbe and Madame Drucour.  He was not without anxiety, and yet was calm and hopeful.

“The tempest did not last long enough to serve our turn as we hoped.  The Governor trusted it would have destroyed the whole fleet; but from what I can learn, nothing was really lost except a few of the flat-bottomed landing boats used in the disembarkation of the troops.  The English are certainly notable sailors; but it is with her soldiers that we shall have more directly to deal.  Still, I wish we could have sunk her ships; it would have placed her on the horns of a dilemma.”

“I have heard,” said the Abbe, “that the Governor talks of destroying the fleet by fire.  He has made considerable preparation for such an attempt.”

Montcalm smiled slightly.

“True; he has been busy with his fire ships for some while.  For my own part, I have but limited faith in them.  They have cost us a million, and I doubt whether they will prove of any service; yet Vaudreuil is very confident.”