our lines nearer and nearer, I would I knew how they
are feeling within the walls of the town."

"Let me be the one to find that out and report," said Julian
eagerly.

"You, man! and how?"

"Let me try to make my way within the lines. We have French
prisoners; let me borrow the uniform of one. I can speak French as
easily as though it were my mother tongue, which, in sooth, perhaps
it is; for I might as well call myself French as English, although
I have always loved the English and cast in my lot with them. No
sentry can know the face of every soldier in the fortress. Let me
see if I cannot get within the walls, and bring you word again of
what is passing there!"

Wolfe stroked his face thoughtfully.

"It is a bold scheme, and I have a mind to take you at your word;
but I would not have you run into too great peril."

"I scarce think that I shall do so. I will have a care. In truth, I
should well enough like to see within those solid walls. It is a
wonderful fortress this. It might be good for us to know its
strength or its weakness, if weakness it has. I would but remain a
couple of nights, and then return and bring you word again."

"I should like to hear the report right well," answered Wolfe. "I
only wish I could accompany you myself."

"That would never do. Yours is too valuable a life to risk; mine is
worth but little to any man save myself."

"I fear rather that I should be but a clog upon your movements,"
answered Wolfe; "and no man would take me for a Frenchman, even
though I can speak the tongue indifferently well. Nor would Amherst
suffer me to make the attempt. We are all under obedience to our
superiors. But I will suffer you to go, if you think the risk not
too great. But have a care of yourself, Julian, have a care. You
have become a friend to me that I could ill spare. If aught of harm
befell you, the campaign would be clouded to me, even though
crowned with victory."

Julian pressed the hand he held, and for a moment there was silence
between the pair. Wolfe looked out before him, and said musingly:

"Does it never seem strange to you, Julian, the thought that our
trade is one which makes us look upon the slaughter of our foes as
the thing most to be desired, whilst we have that in our hearts
which causes us to hate the very thought of suffering and death,
either for ourselves or for others; and when we see our foes
wounded and left upon the field of battle, we give them the care
and t