ou will not die, but I----"

XVII.

THE GREAT RETREAT.

A few days passed and the month of May was ushered in. Cary Singleton
was right in foretelling that stirring events were at hand. A crisis
intervened in the siege of Quebec. Since the disappearance of the snow
the Americans had given some symptoms of activity. There was more
frequent firing upon the town, and feints were made with ladders and
ropes for escalades at different points. An armed schooner, named the
Gaspe, captured during the autumn, was prepared as a fire-ship to drift
down and destroy the craft that was moored in the Cul-de-Sac, at the
eastern extremity of Lower Town. Other vessels destined for a similar
service were also made ready. At nine o'clock on the night of the 3rd of
May, the attempt was actually made. One of the fire-ships turned out
from Levis, and advanced near to the Quebec shore without molestation,
the garrison imagining that it was a friend. Success seemed almost
within reach, when on being hailed, and not answering, guns were fired
at her from the Grand Battery over the Cape. At this signal that they
were discovered, the crew at once set a match to the combustible
material on board, and sent the vessel drifting directly for the
Cul-de-Sac. A moment more and she would have reached that coveted spot,
and the shipping, with the greater part of Lower Town, would have been
consumed. But the tide having ebbed about an hour, the current drove her
back, notwithstanding that the north-east wind was in her favour. This
failure was a terrible disappointment to the Americans. It was their
last stroke against Quebec. Had the attempt succeeded, the army intended
to attack the town during the confusion which the conflagration would
necessarily have created, and the onslaught would have been a terrible
one, because they were goaded to despair by their continuous
ill-success, at the same time that they knew it was their final chance
prior to the arrival of the British fleet, which was every day expected.

That fleet did not long delay its appearance. At six o'clock, on the
morning of the 6th May, a frigate hove in sight turning Point Levis. The
whole American army witnessed her triumphant entrance. The ramparts of
the town were lined with spectators to hail the welcome sight. Drums
beat to arms, the church bells clanged, and an immense shout arose that
was re-echoed from the Plains of Abraham across the river to the Isle of
Orleans. It was