Julian and Fritz exchanged glances of wonder when it was known beyond all doubt that the capitulation had been signed.  It was marvellous to them, who knew the full peril of their own position, that the French should be so blind.  A concerted attack from the two armies of the immediate locality could scarcely have failed to drive them from their vantage ground back to their ships; and once there, the Admirals would have had no choice but to put to sea once more; for already the season was closing, and it would then have been madness to think of any further operations for that season.

And yet sadness rather than joy was the main feeling in the hearts of these comrades as they prepared themselves to be of the number to march into the city.

Fritz was still somewhat lame from the effect of his wound; but his splendid physique had made light of the injury, and in other respects he was sound and strong.  Humphrey walked beside him, giving him a little assistance over rough ground, and Julian was on his other side.  They were full of curiosity to behold the city which it had cost them so much to take, and Fritz was anxious to find again those friends who had shown him kindness in past days.  Julian, too, was very desirous to meet Madame Drucour once more, and renew with her those pleasant relations which had commenced within the fortress of Louisbourg.

Townshend, the Brigadier now in command, had granted easy terms to the place.  He knew too well the peril of his position not to be thankful for having Quebec almost at any price.  The garrison and the sailors, who formed a considerable portion of the force in the city, were to march out with the honours of war, and were to be shipped to France with what speed they might.  The promised protection offered by Wolfe to all peaceable inhabitants was to be assured to all, together with the free exercise of their own religion.

To Townshend had been carried upon the very day of the capitulation a letter written by Montcalm only a few hours before his death, the feeble penmanship of which showed well how difficult it had been to him to indite it.  In effect it was the last thing he ever wrote, and the signature was nothing but a faint initial, as though the failing fingers refused the task before them.

“Monsieur,” ran the missive, “the well-known humanity of the English sets my mind at peace concerning the fate of the French prisoners and the Canadians.  Feel towards them as they have caused me to feel.  Do not let them perceive that they have changed masters.  Be their protector as I have been their father,”

It was probable that Montcalm believed himself addressing Wolfe when he wrote this last charge.  It was not known with any certainty in Quebec that the English General had fallen, Some had heard he was wounded, but no certainty prevailed.  Indeed it was with no exultation that Quebec heard of the death of the dreaded Wolfe.  If he were redoubtable in the field of battle, he was known to be a merciful and generous foe in the hour of victory.  Madame Drucour had shed tears when told for certain of the hero’s fall; the Abbe had sorrowfully shaken his bead, and had told the citizens that they had nothing to rejoice over in that.