and dug the surface of the _terre-plein_
indignantly with his heel. "As for fortification, do I not know
already what additional defences we need? Fort Amitie, monsieur, was
constructed by the great Frontenac himself, and with wonderful
sagacity, if we consider the times. Take, for example, the towers.
You are acquainted, of course, with the modern rule of giving the
bastions a salient angle of fifteen degrees in excess of half the
angle of the figure in all figures from the square up to the
dodecagon? Well, Fort Amitie being a square--or rather a
right-angled quadrilateral--the half of its angle will be forty-five
degrees; add fifteen, and we get sixty; which is as nearly as
possible the salience of our flanking towers; only they happen to be
round. So far, so good; but Frontenac had naturally no opportunity
of studying Vauban's masterpieces, and perhaps as the older man he
never digested Vauban's theories. He did not see that a
quadrilateral measuring fifty toises by thirty must need some
protection midway in its longer curtains, and more especially on the
riverside. A ravelin is out of the question, for we have no
counterscarp to stand it on--no ditch at all in fact; our glacis
slopes straight from the curtain to the river. I have thought of a
tenaille--of a flat bastion. We could do so much if only
M. de Vaudreuil would send us men!--but, as it is, on what are we
relying? Simply, M. a Clive, on our enemies' ignorance of our
weakness."

John turned his face away and stared out over the river. The walls
of the fort seemed to stifle him; but in truth his own breast was the
prison.

"Well now," the Commandant pursued, "your arrival has set me
thinking. We cannot strengthen ourselves against artillery; but they
say that these English generals learn nothing. They may come against
us with musketry, and what served Fort Carillon may also serve Fort
Amitie. A breastwork--call it a lunette--half-way down the slope
yonder, so placed as to command the landing-place at close musket
range--it might be useful, eh? There will be trouble with Polyphile
Cartier--'Sans Quartier,' as they call him. He is proud of his
cabbages, and we might have to evict them; yes, certainly our lunette
would impinge upon his cabbages. But the safety of the Fort would,
of course, override all such considerations."

He caught John by the arm and hurried him along for a better view of
Sans Quartier's cabbage-patch. And just then Mad