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. "Then we will make our preparations," said our hero, when he had read the note. "We already have a canoe, and I advise that we put some provisions into her, for the troops may be delayed. We will go alone, and will take knives and tomahawks. A musket might go off accidentally, and in any case we shall be glad to be free of the weight." "Another o' Steve's 'cute ideas," cried Jim. "This 'ere game as we've got air the biggest I reckon of any as we've ever tackled, 'cos, yer see, ef we make jest the smallest mistake and the French hear us, waal, what's the good of troops? They'll be down upon us at once." "But not in force," answered Steve quickly. "Remember, Jim, that Montcalm has the majority of his men either in the city or in the Beauport lines. There are men at Cap Rouge, but only posts along the cliff we are to climb. We will find the path, clamber up it, and leave two at the top to watch. If a French sentry should come along and hear the noise made by the men as they disembark, those two must silence him. After that it will take only a few minutes to get some of our fellows up, and then Montcalm will want an army. Our boys will not be turned off the cliff by anything less. Jim, you and Mac will take that post up at the top. Father and I will descend and give the signal."