ick is better than half a dozen other generals in full health and
strength. Believe me, we have faith in you, and believe that you
will win the day even single handed, though all the world should
look on in scornful amaze, and say that you had set yourself the
impossible."

Wolfe's eyes flashed. A flush rose for a moment in his pale cheek.
Julian saw that such words as these moved him and braced his spirit
like a tonic. He was half afraid lest it should be too much
excitement, and he signed to Fritz to take Stark away.

"But I will see him again anon," said Wolfe; "I must hear more of
these things. Let him be fed and well looked to, and presently I
will ask him to come to me again."

And when the two had left him, Wolfe turned to Julian and said:

"I see now that I have nothing to hope for in a junction with
Amherst. He will have his hands full till the close of the season.
If Quebec is to be taken, we must take it ourselves, unaided from
without. I think I would rather die out here, and leave this
carcass of mine in a Canadian grave, than return to England with
the news that Quebec still holds out against the English flag!"

"Nay, say not so," answered Julian earnestly, "for the greatest
general may be baffled at some point. And think of your
mother--and--Miss Lowther!"

A softer look came into Wolfe's eyes. Upon his lips there hovered a
slight, strange smile. Instinctively his hand sought for something
beneath his pillow. Julian well knew what it was: a case containing
miniature portraits of the two beings he loved best in the
world--his mother, and the fair girl who had promised to become his
wife.

He did not open it, but he held it in his hand, and spoke with a
dreamy softness of intonation.

"There be times when I think that men of war should have no mothers
or sisters or lovers," he said. "We leave so sad a heritage behind
for them so oft. And we are not worth the sacred tears that they
shed over us when we fall."

"And yet I think they would scarce be without those sacred memories
to cherish," answered Julian, thinking of Mrs. Wolfe's idolization
of her son, and of Kate Lowther's bright eyes, overflowing with
loving admiration. "But why speak you so, as though you would see
them no more? Your health is slowly mending now, and you have been
through perils and dangers before now, and have come safe out of
them."

"That is true," answered Wolfe thoughtfully; "and yet a voice in my
heart seems to tell