across country, day after day, to keep up with Holmes's
restless squadron and transports. He also knew that men
who threw themselves down, tired out, late at night could
not be collected from different places, all over their
thirteen-mile beat, and brought down in the morning, fit
to fight on a battlefield eight miles from the nearest
of them and twenty-one from the farthest.

Montcalm was greatly troubled. He saw redcoats with
Saunders opposite Beauport, redcoats at the island,
redcoats at the Point of Levy, and redcoats guarding the
Levis batteries. He had no means of finding out at once
that the redcoats with Saunders and at the batteries were
marines, and that the redcoats who really did belong to
Wolfe were under orders to march off after dark that very
night and join the other two brigades which were coming
down the river from the squadron above Cap Rouge. He had
no boats that could get through the perfect screen of
the British fleet. But all that the skill of mortal man
could do against these odds he did on that fatal eve of
battle, as he had done for three years past, with foes
in front and false friends behind. He ordered the battalion
which he had sent to the Plains on the 5th, and which
Vaudreuil had brought back on the 7th, 'now to go and
camp at the Foulon'; that is, at the top of the road
coming up from Wolfe's landing-place at the Anse au
Foulon. But Vaudreuil immediately gave a counter-order
and said: 'We'll see about that to-morrow.' Vaudreuil's
'to-morrow' never came.