“Captain Williams,” said he, “how many men do you muster?”

“Seventy, sir, of all ranks,” replied Williams; “forty-nine grenadiers and Captain Chisholm’s company of volunteers.”

“We must make the attempt, then,” said the General, “to turn the enemy’s left flank on the Heights, and this can only be done by a round-about way.”  Then, as Dennis joined him, he said, with a shade of vexation on his face, “It is a waste of time lamenting mistakes, but the overlooking of that pathway was a serious thing.  The re-taking of the redan must be attempted at all hazards.  It is the key, you see, to our position.  If we wait for all our reinforcements the task will only be greater, as it will give the enemy time to establish himself in force, and when he drills out the spiked gun, the odds against us will be greater still.”

Then, after a pause, “We must try and regain that gun without a moment’s delay.  It will be hot work, and means a sacrifice, but it is clearly our duty.  Macdonell cannot be long.  How are your men?”

“Somewhat fagged, sir,” replied Dennis, “and a bit hippish.  We’ve had a trying time, but they are ready to follow you.”

* * * * *

It has been truly said of Isaac Brock that he never allowed a thought of self-preservation or self-interest to affect for one instant his conception of duty.  He was blind at this moment to all personal considerations.  He made no effort to shelter himself behind any plausible excuse that would have been gratefully seized by the timid or calculating man, or to fence with his duty.  His consistency was sublime.  “His last moments were in clear keeping with his life and his belief.”

     “He who thinks In strife
       To earn a deathless fame,
     Must do, nor ever care for life.”

The little band of heroes fell into line, while their brother hero addressed them.

“Men of the 49th,” said Brock, “and my brave volunteers, I have heard of your work this morning, and the trying circumstances under which you have been fighting.  Now, my lads, as you know, a large body of the enemy has stolen a march on us.  They have taken our gun, it is true, but they will find it spiked!  It is our duty to re-take it.  Be prepared for slippery footing.  Use every bit of shelter, but when we make the final rush give the enemy no time to think.  Pour in a volley; fire low, and when it comes to in-fighting, use the bayonet resolutely and you have them beaten.  I know I can depend upon you....  There is a foreign flag flying over a British gun.  It must not stay there....  Don’t cheer now, men, but save your breath and follow me.”

* * * * *

There was a cheer, notwithstanding.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS.