[Chapter 4]: Hostilities.
"Alas! alas!" wailed the townsfolk, when the news of the fiasco of the fire ships was made known, "those dogs of English are too much for us upon the water; but let them attempt to meet us on land, and we will show them what we can do!"
"Do they think French soldiers are the only ones who can fight?" asked Arthur, with a note of wondering scorn in his voice, as the sense of these words came to him. "Well, they will have their wish fast enough, I doubt not! Wolfe is here; and if he cannot fight, write me down an ass! They have seen what the sailors can do; now we will show them what our soldiers are good for!"
"Don't boast, Arthur," quoth Peter, the eldest of the trio; "we can do without great swelling words. The French boast themselves into the belief that they hold this whole vast continent in possession. We must not be like them, and seek to boast ourselves into Quebec! We will wait till our flag is flying from yon battlement, and then it will be time enough to talk."
"All right," answered Arthur gaily; "I'll wager it will not be long before we see it there!"
"Only don't let our townsfolk hear you saying that," said Corinne, laughing, "else they may be disposed to set you hanging there instead!"
And at that retort a laugh was raised against Arthur, who was a little disposed to gasconade, and to an unmerited scorn of the valour of their French rivals.
"Nor will Quebec be taken in a day, nor a week, nor a month," added Corinne, "if all we hear be true. Monsieur de Montcalm has no intention, it is said, of meeting your Wolfe in battle. He means to lie behind these strong walls, and yonder formidable earthworks which protect his camp, and wear out the patience of the foe till the autumn storms force them to leave these coasts for a safer harbourage. There will be no fighting in the open, they say; all will be done by the guns cannonading us, and by ours returning the fire. It may be grand and terrible to watch, but it will not bring things quickly to an issue."
"Yet Wolfe will contrive something to keep the foe busy, or I am much mistaken," cried Peter. "Doubtless a pitched battle is what he would most desire; but if that is not to be, he will find a way of harassing his foes. Never fear, Corinne; you will see enough of war before long--trust my word for that!"
"Enough, and too much, perchance," said the girl, with a little, quick sigh; "my aunt tells me that war is a fearful game to behold. Sometimes my heart sinks within me at what is about to befall. And yet I am glad to be here; I would not be elsewhere. I long to see this great struggle and watch it through. All say that Quebec is the key of Canada. Whichever nation holds Quebec will be master of the whole vast province."