“So soon?”

“So they say.  I know not if it be altogether true, but all is confusion worse confounded yonder.  The soldiers are pouring back to their camp at Beauport in a perfect fever of panic.  I heard that Bigot would have tried to muster and lead them against the enemy once more, and that the Governor gave his sanction, but that the officers would not second the suggestion.  I think all feel that with only Vaudreuil to lead fighting is hopeless.  He knows not his own mind two minutes together; he agrees always with the last speaker.  He is always terrified in the moment of real crisis and peril.  His bluster and gasconade desert him, and leave him in pitiful case.”

“What, then, is to be done?”

“That I cannot tell.  I have come with a message from the Governor to the Marquis.  He sent me to ascertain his condition, and if possible to ask counsel of him.  His word would still carry weight.  If he is sufficiently himself to listen for a few minutes to what I have to say, I would then put the case and ask his opinion upon it.”

Madame Drucour drew the Abbe softly into the room where the dying man lay.  Montcalm’s eyes opened as he heard them approach.  At the sight of the Abbe he seemed to try to rouse himself.

“You have brought news!  Tell me, how goes it?”

The Abbe repeated in some detail the after events of the battle and rout, Montcalm listening to every word with the keenest interest and attention.

“Where is the Governor?” he asked at the conclusion of the narrative.

“He was still at the hornwork when I left,” answered the Abbe; “but many were clamouring around him, declaring that the place would be carried by assault almost immediately, and all of them cut to pieces without quarter; and that they had better surrender the city and colony at once than lose all their lives in an unavailing struggle.”

Montcalm’s face, upon which death had already set its seal, remained immovably calm and tranquil.

“What said the Governor?” he asked.

“He appeared to agree with this view of the case.  He is much alarmed and disturbed.  He is preparing to return to his own quarters upon the Beauport road, and will there hold a council as to the next step to be taken.  It was he who asked me to go back to the city and see you, my General, and ask what advice you have for us.  We are in a sore strait, and there seems none to advise us; but any word that comes from you will have its weight with the army.”

Montcalm lay silent a long while.  Physical weakness made speaking difficult, and his mind no longer worked with the lightning quickness of old days.  He seemed to find some slight difficulty in bringing it down to the affairs of earthly battles and struggles.