“It looks as if we’d have to fight after all, Morris.”
“What makes you think that?” questioned Dave, who had just come in from four hours of guard duty.
“I just got an inkling from headquarters,” said the soldier who had first spoken. “The Frenchmen don’t want to agree to General Amherst’s demands.”
“They will be foolish if they don’t,” said the young soldier. “With a combined army of seventeen thousand men to draw on we can knock Montreal higher than a kite if we start in to do it.”
“To be sure, Morris.”
“But I hope it doesn’t come to a fight,” went on Dave, his face clouding.
“Why; you are not afraid, are you?”
“No. I was thinking of the English prisoners in Montreal. They will be sure to suffer, with no way by which they can help themselves.”
“True for you. But the French sick will suffer, too. A cannon ball goes where it pleases, once it is fired.”
During the night had come one alarm. Some Canadians had attempted to leave the city with some plunder, taken from houses that happened to be deserted. A part of this crowd was shot down within the city walls by Lévis’ guards, and the others were shot down by the guards under Amherst and Murray.