“Don’t boast, Arthur,” quoth Peter, the eldest of the trio; “we can do without great swelling words.  The French boast themselves into the belief that they hold this whole vast continent in possession.  We must not be like them, and seek to boast ourselves into Quebec!  We will wait till our flag is flying from yon battlement, and then it will be time enough to talk.”

“All right,” answered Arthur gaily; “I’ll wager it will not be long before we see it there!”

“Only don’t let our townsfolk hear you saying that,” said Corinne, laughing, “else they may be disposed to set you hanging there instead!”

And at that retort a laugh was raised against Arthur, who was a little disposed to gasconade, and to an unmerited scorn of the valour of their French rivals.

“Nor will Quebec be taken in a day, nor a week, nor a month,” added Corinne, “if all we hear be true.  Monsieur de Montcalm has no intention, it is said, of meeting your Wolfe in battle.  He means to lie behind these strong walls, and yonder formidable earthworks which protect his camp, and wear out the patience of the foe till the autumn storms force them to leave these coasts for a safer harbourage.  There will be no fighting in the open, they say; all will be done by the guns cannonading us, and by ours returning the fire.  It may be grand and terrible to watch, but it will not bring things quickly to an issue.”

“Yet Wolfe will contrive something to keep the foe busy, or I am much mistaken,” cried Peter.  “Doubtless a pitched battle is what he would most desire; but if that is not to be, he will find a way of harassing his foes.  Never fear, Corinne; you will see enough of war before long—­trust my word for that!”

“Enough, and too much, perchance,” said the girl, with a little, quick sigh; “my aunt tells me that war is a fearful game to behold.  Sometimes my heart sinks within me at what is about to befall.  And yet I am glad to be here; I would not be elsewhere.  I long to see this great struggle and watch it through.  All say that Quebec is the key of Canada.  Whichever nation holds Quebec will be master of the whole vast province.”

“Ay, and Wolfe knows that as well as the French themselves.  His cry has always been, ‘To Quebec!’

“And yonder he is, within a few miles of his goal!  Now we shall see what he can do.”

In truth they were very soon to see and feel for themselves in the city what Wolfe could and would do.

A day or two later sounds of excitement and alarm in the street proclaimed that something fresh was afoot, and Colin with his comrades darted out to learn the news.  The citizens were gathering together and running for places which commanded a view over the river, and those who had telescopes or spyglasses were adjusting them with trembling hands, pointing them all in one direction—­namely, towards the heights of Point Levi opposite, where the river narrowed itself till it was less than a mile wide.