Wilton and Carson, Stuart and Cabell soon came, and then Grosvenor, and every one in his turn welcomed Robert back from the dead, after which he gave to them collectively a rapid outline of his story.

"'Tis a strange tale, a romance," said Grosvenor. "It's evident that it's not intended you shall lose your life in this war, Lennox. What has become of that wonderful Onondaga Indian, Tayoga, and the great hunter, Willet?"

"They're both here. You shall see them before the day is over. But what is the feeling in the army?"

"We're depressed and the French are elated. It's because we lost the Montmorency battle. The Royal Americans and the Grenadiers were too impulsive. We tried to rush slopes damp and slippery from rain, and we were cut up. I received a wound there, and so did Wilton, but neither amounts to anything, and I want to tell you, Lennox, that, although we're depressed, we're not withdrawing. Our general is sick a good deal, but the sicker he grows the braver he grows. We hang on. The French say we can continue hanging on, and then the winter will drive us away. You know what the Quebec winter is. But we'll see. Maybe something will happen before winter comes."

As Robert turned away from the little group he came face to face with a tall young officer dressed with scrupulousness and very careful of his dignity.

"Charteris!"[A] he exclaimed.

"Lennox!"

They shook hands with the greatest surprise and pleasure.

"When I last saw you at Ticonderoga you were a prisoner of the French,"

said Robert.

"And so were you."

"But I escaped in a day or two."

"I escaped also, though not in a day or two. I was held a prisoner in Quebec all through the winter and spring and much befell me, but at last I escaped to General Wolfe and rejoined my old command, the Royal Americans."

"And he took part in the battle of Montmorency, a brave part too," said Colden.

"No braver than the others. No more than you yourself, Colden,"

protested Charteris.

"And 'tis said that, though he left Quebec in the night, he left his heart there in the possession of a very lovely lady who speaks French better than she speaks English," said Colden.

"'Tis not a subject of which you have definite information," rejoined Charteris, flushing very red and then laughing.

But Colden, suspecting that his jest was truth rather, had too much delicacy to pursue the subject. Later in the day Robert returned with Willet and Tayoga and they had a reunion.

"When we take Quebec," said Tayoga to Grosvenor, "Red Coat must go back with us into the wilderness and learn to become a great warrior. We can go beyond the Great Lakes and stay two or three years."

"I wish I could," laughed Grosvenor, "but that is one of the things I must deny myself. If the war should be finished, I shall have to return to England."

"St. Luc is in Quebec," said Willet. "We followed his trail a long distance."

"Which means that our task here will be the harder," said Colden.

Robert went with Willet, Charteris and Tayoga the next day to Monckton's camp at Point Levis, whence the English batteries had poured destruction upon the lower town of Quebec, firing across the St. Lawrence, that most magnificent of all rivers, where its channel was narrow. He could see the houses lying in ashes or ruins, but above them the French flag floated defiantly over the upper city.

"Montcalm and his lieutenants made great preparations to receive General Wolfe," said Charteris. "As I was in Quebec then, I know something about them, and I've learned more since I escaped. They threw up earthworks, bastions and redoubts almost all the way from Quebec to Montcalm's camp at Beauport. Over there at Beauport the Marquis' first headquarters were located in a big stone house. Across the mouth of the St. Charles they put a great boom of logs, fastened together by chains, and strengthened further by two cut-down ships on which they mounted batteries. Forces pa.s.sing between the city and the Beauport camp crossed the St. Charles on a bridge of boats, and each entrance of the bridge was guarded by earthworks. In the city they closed and fortified every gate, except the Palace Gate, through which they pa.s.sed to the bridge or from it. They had more than a hundred cannon on the walls, a floating battery carried twelve more guns, and big ones too, and they had a lot of gun-boats and fire ships and fire rafts. They gathered about fifteen thousand men in the Beauport camp, besides Indians, with the regulars in the center, and the militia on the flank. In addition to these there were a couple of thousand in the city itself under De Ramesay, and I think Montcalm had, all told, near to twenty thousand men, about double our force, though 'tis true many of theirs are militia and we have a powerful fleet. I suppose their numbers have not decreased, and it's a great task we've undertaken, though I think we'll achieve it."

Robert looked again and with great emotion upon Quebec, that heart and soul of the French power in North America. Truly much water had flowed down the St. Lawrence since he was there before. He could not forget the thrill with which he had first approached it, nor could he forget those gallant young Frenchmen who had given him a welcome, although he was already, in effect, an official enemy. And then, too, he had seen Bigot, Pean, Cadet and their corrupt group who were doing so much to wreck the fortunes of New France. Not all the valor of Montcalm, De Levis, Bourlamaque, St. Luc and the others could stay the work of their destructive hands.

The mills of G.o.d grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. It was true! The years had pa.s.sed. The French victories in North America had been numerous. Again and again they had hurled back the English and Americans, and year after year they had dammed the flood. They had struck terrible blows at Duquesne and Oswego, at William Henry and at Ticonderoga. But the mills of G.o.d ground on, and here at last was the might of Britain before Quebec, and Robert's heart, loyal as he was to the mother country, always throbbed with pride when he recalled that his own Americans were there too, the New England rangers and the staunch regiment of Royal Americans, the bravest of the brave, who had already given so much of their blood at Montmorency. In these world-shaking events the Americans played their splendid part beside their English kin, as they were destined to do one hundred and fifty-nine years later upon the soil of Europe itself, closing up forever, as most of us hope, the cleavage between nations of the same language and same ideals.

Robert looked long at Quebec on its heights, gleaming now in the sun which turned it into a magic city, increasing its size, heightening the splendor of the buildings and heightening, too, the formidable obstacles over which Wolfe must prevail. Nature here had done wonders for the defense. With its mighty river and mighty cliffs it seemed that a capable general and a capable army could hold the city forever.

"Aye, it's strong, Lennox," said Charteris, who read his thoughts.

"General Wolfe, as I know, has written back to England that it's the strongest place in the world, and he may be right, but we've had some successes here, mingled with some failures. Aside from the Battle of Montmorency most of the land fighting has been in our favor, and our command of the river through our fleet is a powerful factor in our favor. Yet, the short Quebec summer draws to a close, and if we take the city we must take it soon. General Wolfe is lying ill again in a farm house, but his spirit is not quenched and all our operations are directed from his sick bed."

As Charteris spoke, the batteries on the Heights of Levis opened again, pouring round shot, grape and canister upon the Lower Town. Fragments of buildings crashed to the earth, and other fragments burst into flames.

Cannon on the frigates in the river also fired upon the devoted city and from the great rock cannon replied. Coils of smoke arose, and, uniting into a huge cloud, floated westward on the wind. It was a great spectacle and Robert's heart throbbed. But he was sad too. He had much pity for the people of Quebec, exposed to that terrible siege and the rain of death.

"We've ravaged a good deal of the country around Quebec," continued Charteris. "It's hard, but we're trying to cut off the subsistence of the French army, and, on the other hand, bands of their Indian allies raid our outposts and take scalps. It's the New England rangers mostly that deal with these war parties, in which the French and Canadians themselves take a part."

"Then Tandakora will find plenty of employment here," said Willet.

"Nothing will give him more joy than to steal upon a sentinel in the dark and cut him down."

"And while Tandakora hunts our people," said Tayoga, "we will hunt him.

What better work can we do, Great Bear, than to meet these raiding parties?"

"That's our task, Tayoga," replied the hunter.

As they turned away from the Heights of Levis the batteries were still thundering, pouring their terrible flood of destruction upon the Lower Town, and far up on the cliffs cannon were firing at the ships in the river. Robert looked back and his heart leaped as before. The eyes of the world he knew were on Quebec, and well it deserved the gaze of the nations. It was fitting that the mighty drama should be played out there, on that incomparable stage, where earth rose up to make a fitting channel for its most magnificent river.

"It's all that you think it is," said Charteris, again reading his thoughts; "a prize worth the efforts of the most warlike nations."

"The Quebec of the English and French," said Tayoga, "but the lost Stadacona of the Mohawks, lost to them forever. Whatever the issue of the war the Mohawks will not regain their own."

The others were silent, not knowing what to say. A little later a tall, lank youth to whom Charteris gave a warm welcome met them.

"Been taking a look at the town, Leftenant?" he said.

"Aye, Zeb," replied Charteris. "I've been showing it to some friends of mine who, however, have seen it before, though not under the same conditions. These gentlemen are David Willet, Robert Lennox and Tayoga, the Onondaga, and this is Zebedee Crane,[B] a wonderful scout to whom I owe my escape from Quebec."

Willet seized the lank lad's hand and gave it a warm grasp.

"I've heard of you, Zeb Crane," he said. "You're from the Mohawk Valley and you're one of the best scouts and trailers in the whole Province of New York, or anywhere, for that matter."

"And I've heard uv all three uv you," said the boy, looking at them appreciatively. "I wuz at Ticonderogy, an' two uv you at least wuz thar.

I didn't git to see you, but I heard uv you. You're a great hunter, Mr.

Willet, whom the Iroquois call the Great Bear, an' ez fur Tayoga I know that he belongs to the Clan of the Bear uv the nation Onondaga, an' that he's the grandest trailer the world hez ever seed."

Tayoga actually blushed under his bronze.

"The flattery of my friends should be received at a heavy discount," he said in his prim, precise English.

"It ain't no flattery," said Zebedee. "It's the squar' an' solid truth.

I've heard tales uv you that are plum' impossible, but I know that they hev happened all the same. Ef they wuz to tell me that you had tracked the wild goose through the air or the leapin' salmon through the water I'd believe 'em."

"It would be very little exaggeration," said Robert, earnestly. "Be quiet, Tayoga! If we want to sing your praises we'll sing 'em and you can't help it."