some miles away, and before they could be brought up to resist the advance of the invading force the morning was well in progress. As soon as it was known that the British were making entrenchments, the French general decided upon an immediate attack to prevent them from strengthening their position.

Soon after ten o’clock on the bright September morning, Montcalm advanced im- petuously to the charge. Down the ravine the French rushed, the formation of the ground causing some confusion. They stopped to re-form within a few hundred yards of the ad- vancing British, but ere they could climb the hill a frightful volley, hitherto held in reserve, now wrapped the advancing host in a death- flame that caused terrible havoc. Montcalm was in the forefront, heroically urging forward his wavering troops; while Wolfe on the right of the British advance was in the thick of the deadly fray.

A bullet struck the British general on the wrist. It was hastily bound with a handkerchief. At the head of the Louisbourg grenadiers he pressed eagerly forward, when he was struck a second time and dangerously wounded. His bright uniform made him a mark for every sharpshooter. And now a bullet entered his breast. He staggered. Alas! the wound was mortal. “Support me," he hastily cried, “ my brave men must not see me fall.” He was carried to one side and laid on the grass. “A surgeon!” cried a grenadier officer. “It is useless," faintly uttered the gallant \Volfe, “I am done for.” He was gradually lapsing into uncrmsciousness.

“They fly,” came eager corn- ments from the sad group surround- ing the (lying general. ”\Vho '3" quickly uttered \Volfe, arousing him- self by one last, painful effort. “The enemy!" came the glad reply, “they are yielding in every direc- tion.” Wolfe immediately gave the important order to speed to the St. Charles River, capture the bridge and thus cut off the enemy's retreat. He turned on his side, and, as he murmured. “the Lord be praised, I die in peace!H his dauntless spirit

39