These two fronts were now to decide the fate of Canada
between them. The French still came bravely on; but their
six-deep line was much shorter than the British two-deep
line, and they saw that both their flanks were about to
be over-lapped by fire and steel. They inclined outwards
to save themselves from this fatal overlap on both right
and left. But that made just as fatal a gap in their
centre. Their whole line wavered, halted oftener to fire,
and fired more wildly at each halt.

In the meantime Wolfe's front stood firm as a rock and
silent as the grave, one long, straight, living wall of
red, with the double line of deadly keen bayonets glittering
above it. Nothing stirred along its whole length, except
the Union Jacks, waving defiance at the fleurs-de-lis,
and those patient men who fell before a fire to which
they could not yet reply. Bayonet after bayonet would
suddenly flash out of line and fall forward, as the
stricken redcoat, standing there with shouldered arms,
quivered and sank to the ground.

Captain York had brought up a single gun in time for the
battle, the sailors having dragged it up the cliff and
run it the whole way across the Plains. He had been
handling it most gallantly during the French advance,
firing showers of grape-shot into their ranks from a
position right out in the open in front of Wolfe's line.
But now that the French were closing he had to retire.
The sailors then picked up the drag-ropes and romped in
with this most effective six-pounder at full speed, as