Louis over his cuirass, and mounted on a splendid black
charger, rode the whole length of his line, to see if
all were ready to attack. The French regulars--half-fed,
sorely harassed, interfered with by Vaudreuil--were still
the victors of Ticonderoga, against the British odds of
four to one. Perhaps they might snatch one last desperate
victory from the fortunes of war? Certainly all would
follow wherever they were led by their beloved Montcalm,
the greatest Frenchman of the whole New World. He said
a few stirring words to each of his well-known regiments
as he rode by; and when he laughingly asked the best of
all, the Royal Roussillon, if they were not tired enough
to take a little rest before the battle, they shouted
back that they were never too tired to fight--'Forward,
forward!' And their steady blue ranks, and those of the
four white regiments beside them, with bayonets fixed
and colours flying, did indeed look fit and ready for
the fray.

Wolfe also had gone along his line of battle, the first
of all two-deep thin red lines, to make sure that every
officer understood the order that there was to be no
firing until the French came close up, to within only
forty paces. As soon as he saw Montcalm's line on the
crest he had moved his own a hundred paces forward,
according to previous arrangement; so that the two enemies
were now only a long musket-shot apart. The Canadians
and Indians were pressing round the British flanks, under
cover of the bushes, and firing hard. But they were easily
held in check by the light infantry on the left rear of