Meanwhile Steve, his father, and the two trappers had embarked on a sloop, and having sailed during the night up to Cap Rouge, drifted down river on the following day. Twice in succession they repeated the performance.
"I am satisfied now that we have found the place," said our hero, when sent for by the general. "From the river here the land looks so different that at first we were a little uncertain. But we have picked up our bearings, and there can be no doubt. It remains now only to make sure that the enemy is not above, and if they are there, to get such a hold that they cannot drive us down before reinforcements arrive. May we have a canoe, General? and whenever you select the night for the attack, we will slip ashore, find the path, and signal to the men."
"We are ready now," came the answer, for Wolfe was nothing if not eager and impetuous. "But the weather is against us. It is dull and inclined to rain, and that, in my opinion, would spoil our chances. We want a fine night. Return to the sloop, Steve, and when the hour comes I will send for you."
Steve left the general stalking restlessly backwards and forwards in front of his tent, looking wan and ill after his attack of fever. But Wolfe was full of energy and determination. This coming attempt, he felt, was to be his last. It was to be the one great stroke upon which the success of the whole campaign depended, and nothing should cause failure that care and attention beforehand could obviate. He went aboard the fleet, and himself studied the face of that cliff up which his battalions were to clamber. Then he published his orders, gave his final instructions, and sent a short note to Steve.
"The weather is settled now, and the night will be fine," he wrote on the twelfth of September. "Carry out your plan to-night. As soon as it is dark make for the shore, and find this path. When you are sure that you are near it lie close down by the water and listen. My men leave three hours after it is dark. Show them a lantern as they pass you."
That was all. This General Wolfe, a keen organiser himself, was one of those officers who had the happy knack of rapidly discovering the good points of those who served him. Once assured of an officer's discretion, he could give an order and leave it to the officer in question to carry it out in every detail without interference. And now he sent his final orders to Steve, intimating to him that on his discretion depended the success or failure of the whole expedition.