on which I beg you will
see that right credit and justice be done towards Jock Farquharson of
Inverey, commonly called the Black Colonel. He and I alone knew
beforehand where exactly the escalade was to be, and it was a singular
joy to share a large, potential secret with another able to make it
good, as General Wolfe most handsomely did, though, once being shown
how, no great difficulty remained.

"When, in the hurry of Quebec that fated morning, I heard Fraser's
Highlanders had climbed the cliffs, swinging from foothold to foothold
like the wild cats of their native mountains, I said to myself, 'This
is, indeed, my venture, and it is fitting my own people should carry it
out.' But how odd it is that two Highland threads should come together
in such a fashion, only we Celts have been destined to weave many of
the red warps of story. I had knowledge of the part my kinsmen were to
play in the bloody gamble between General Wolfe and the Marquis
Montcalm, and, without desiring to appear on the field of battle, which
was no part of my diplomacy and not hard, with my privileges from the
French, to avoid, I sought an elevation where I could behold the kilted
Frasers drawn up in battle array.

"My certes, they made a brave picture, with the sun shining on the
colours of their kilts and the cool Canadian breeze waving them as in a
rhythm of martial motion. Ah! the heart aye warms to the tartan, and I
could have given my soul, if it be left me, which I must hope, to stand
in front of that red and green line, an officer of the Fraser's, as I
have now become, by virtue of the successful completion of my contract.
They awaited orders with impatience, for the headlong charge has ever
been the natural form of battle with Highlanders, only the appearance
of General Wolfe, fearlessly wearing a new, conspicuous uniform, and
the entire confidence of his step forward and backward while history
boiled in the pot, held them in like a rein.

"It was the French who joined battle first, making some confusion among
themselves as they did so, because their several units fired
differently. This wasted and scattered their salvoes, but they
advanced gallantly to within forty yards of the British lines. Then
General Wolfe ordered 'Fire!' and before its solid stroke the French
reeled like trees stricken by lightning. Swiftly, then, the
Highlanders leapt forward with bayonets gleaming, and in what I say of
them--my own people--I say of the B