“I would rather have written those lines,” he said with deep feeling, “than take Quebec to-morrow!”
As their boats stole in to the shore, a sentinel called out in French, “Who goes there?”
“France,” answered a voice in French.
“What regiment?”
“The Queen’s,” again in good French, by a Scotchman who had seen service in France.
A little later another sentryman challenged them.
“What is that?”
The Scotchman whispered, “Provision boats. Sh! the English will hear us!”
In this way they reached a point at the foot of the steep cliff. Twenty-four men started to climb up where it seemed impossible. As they kept on, others started up after them. Then came others, General Wolfe among the number. In a short time quite a large company, in red coats and Scotch kilts, had reached the top and dragged several small cannon after them. The French felt so safe from attack that the small guard on the Plains of Abraham, as the level top was called, was taken by surprise and easily overcome.