Wolfe spoke thus at the conclusion of a supper party, which he had hastily got up for the benefit of the prisoners brought to Point Levi by his fleet of boats.  The soldiers had landed along the upper river, and in spite of a faint resistance from Indians and Canadians, had effected a landing.  Though they had not found much in the way of stores or cattle, they had taken what they could, and had brought a number of prisoners to Wolfe’s camp.  These were mostly French—­a great number being women and children and old men who had left Quebec during the bombardment, and sought refuge in the outlying village.

The idea of being sent back to town was not exactly palatable, but it was plain that there was now no safety along the upper river; the English troops seemed to be everywhere at once.

“You are such dreadful people, you English!” sighed one lady, looking, not without admiration, towards the youthful General, who was entertaining them at his own table, and who had given the strictest orders that the humbler of the prisoners should be equally well treated elsewhere:  “you seem to fly from point to point, to divide your army as you will, and conquer wherever you appear.  It is wonderful, but it is terrible, too!  And yet with all this, how are you to get into Quebec?  For it seems to me you are no nearer that than you were a month ago.”

Wolfe smiled his slight, peculiar smile.

“Madame,” he answered, “we have a proverb in En gland which says that ‘where there’s a will there’s a way.’  I have been sent out by the government of my country to take Quebec, and here I stay till I have carried out that order.  How and when it will be accomplished I do not yet know; what I say is that I am here to do it, and that I mean to do it.  When you return to the city, present my respects to the Marquis of Montcalm, and tell him what I say.”

The ladies looked at one another, and lifted eyes and hands.  In the aspect of the young General, despite his physical feebleness, there was an air of such calm, confident power that they were deeply impressed; and one of them, looking earnestly at him, cried: 

“You make us admire you as much as we fear you, Monsieur Wolfe.  But if you are to have Quebec, pray take it quickly; for this long, cruel war wears us out.”

“Madame,” he answered, “I would that I could; but Monsieur de Montcalm gives me no chance of fighting.  If he were not so cautious, I should greatly rejoice.  I give him all sorts of chances to attack me, but he will not avail himself of them.  If caution could save Quebec, assuredly it would never fall!”