“There is not so much to tell as there might be,” said Stark, “for the French made no fight, either at Ticonderoga or at Crown Point.  We came with a gallant array against their fortresses, only to find that the enemy had evacuated them.  They tried to blow up Ticonderoga before they left; but only one bastion was destroyed.  Crown Point was deserted without a blow being struck.  I waited for that, and then made good my word.  I said I would be the first to take the news of the fall of Ticonderoga to General Wolfe at Quebec.”

Wolfe’s eyes were shining with excitement.

“Then is General Amherst on his way here with his army?” he asked eagerly.

Stark shook his head.

“Alas, no! there is still much work to be done.  If the French have abandoned these two forts, it is only that they may concentrate all their strength at Isle-aux-Noix, where the General must now attack them.  And to do this he must build a brigantine and other vessels; and though there is a sawmill at Ticonderoga, the work will still take somewhat long to accomplish.  I fear that many weeks will elapse before he can advance; and meantime—­”

He paused, for he scarce knew how to conclude the sentence.  He had heard as he passed through the camp towards Wolfe’s quarters that the outlook was not altogether a bright one, despite the fact that success had crowned many of the enterprises hitherto undertaken.

Wolfe took up the unfinished sentence and spoke.

“Meantime the winter gales will be threatening us, and if the walls of Quebec still shut us out, we may be forced to sail to England with our task yet uncompleted, or to take up our winter quarters in one of the islands, and wait for better things next spring.  Was that the thought in your mind, John Stark?”

“In truth, sir, as I came along and surveyed the position of the notable city of Quebec, it seemed to me that it would be a hard task to bring it to surrender; but then we all know that General Wolfe can accomplish the impossible if any man can.”

A slight smile crossed Wolfe’s worn face.

“I look like a man to perform the impossible, don’t I, good Stark?” he said; and the Ranger’s eyes filled with pitiful sympathy as he made answer: 

“Indeed, sir, I grieve to find you so; and yet men say that Wolfe sick is better than half a dozen other generals in full health and strength.  Believe me, we have faith in you, and believe that you will win the day even single handed, though all the world should look on in scornful amaze, and say that you had set yourself the impossible.”

Wolfe’s eyes flashed.  A flush rose for a moment in his pale cheek.  Julian saw that such words as these moved him and braced his spirit like a tonic.  He was half afraid lest it should be too much excitement, and he signed to Fritz to take Stark away.

“But I will see him again anon,” said Wolfe; “I must hear more of these things.  Let him be fed and well looked to, and presently I will ask him to come to me again.”