! There! did I not say so?"

At that moment the batteries on the brink of the height opened
their murderous crossfire. The men were mown down like grass before
the scythe; but so full were they of fury and desire of victory
that they heeded nothing, and pressed onward and upward, as though
resolved to carry everything before them.

Had they been able to see the heights above, they would have noted
that across the ford above the Montmorency a compact body of men
was passing in perfect order, to fall upon the French from behind,
and effect a junction with them. But at that moment, whilst the
fortunes of the day seemed hanging in the balance, the very
floodgates of heaven seemed to open, and a deluge of rain
descended, whilst the blackness of a terrific thunderstorm fell
upon the combatants.

The slippery grass no longer gave foothold, and the men rolled down
the steep heights--dead, wounded, and unhurt in one medley. The
ammunition grew soaked, and the guns refused their task. The glare
of the lightning lit up a scene of utter confusion.

Wolfe saw all, standing with grave face and stern, watchful eyes.
At last he spoke.

"Sound the retreat," he said, and then bit his lip; and Julian, by
a glance into his face, knew what it had cost him to speak those
words.

The retreat was made in good order, and was distinguished by a few
acts of personal gallantry; for the Indians swooped down, as they
always did when they saw their chance, to scalp the wounded and the
dead. Soldiers risked their lives to save their fallen comrades
from this fate, dragging the wounded with them, at risk of their
own lives. The guns of the captured redoubt did some service in
beating off the savages; and the boats were launched once more,
though their load was a far lighter one than when they had brought
up their eager crews an hour before. The strand and the height
above were covered with the dead who had paid for their rash
gallantry with their lives. It was a scene upon which Wolfe's eyes
dwelt with sadness and pain, as he ordered a boat to be got ready
for him, that he might address the men on their return to quarters.

It was with stern words that Wolfe met his soldiers. He was not a
man to condone a lack of discipline because it had been coupled
with personal bravery.

"Do you grenadiers suppose that you can beat the French
single-handed?" he asked, eying the thinned ranks with stern
displeasure in his eyes. "Such impetuous, irregular