"Mr. Moray," said General Wolfe, when I saw him, racked with
pain, studying a chart of the river and town which his chief
engineer had just brought him, "show me here this passage in the
hillside."
I did so, tracing the plains of Maitre Abraham, which I
assured him would be good ground for a pitched battle. He nodded;
then rose, and walked up and down for a time, thinking. Suddenly
he stopped, and fixed his eyes upon me.
"Mr. Moray," said he, "it would seem that you, angering La
Pompadour, brought down this war upon us." He paused, smiling in a
dry way, as if the thought amused him, as if indeed he doubted it;
but for that I cared not, it was an honour I could easily live
without.
I bowed to his words, and said, "Mine was the last straw, sir."
Again he nodded, and replied, "Well, well, you got us into trouble;
you must show us the way out," and he looked at the passage I had
traced upon the chart. "You will remain with me until we meet our
enemy on these heights." He pointed to the plains of Maitre Abraham.
Then he turned away, and began walking up and down again. "It is
the last chance!" he said to himself in a tone despairing and yet
heroic. "Please God, please God!" he added.
"You will speak nothing of these plans," he said to me at last,
half mechanically. "We must make feints of landing at Cap
Rouge--feints of landing everywhere save at the one possible place;
confuse both Bougainville and Montcalm; tire out their armies with
watchings and want of sleep; and then, on the auspicious night,
make the great trial.
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