While Wolfe still gazed upon this appalling prospect a storm gathered over his head, and burst in sudden violence. The teeming rain fell like a vail between him and the beautiful but dangerous shore. Lightning hissed through the air, and a hurricane swept over the river with destructive strength. Transports were driven from their moorings and cast ashore; smaller boats were dashed against each other and swamped, and the vessels of war with difficulty held to their anchors. Silently and thoughtfully the young general retraced his steps to the landing-place, his sanguine and sensitive spirit oppressed for a moment with the difficulties of his enterprise, and by the gloomy omen of the heavens. But, before he rejoined the army, the weight was flung aside; the elastic spring of his mind had resumed its play, and he entered the camp with head erect and his usual bright and fearless aspect. He did not forget that he received his high command in the confidence that "no dangers or difficulties should discourage him." The storm passed away as suddenly as it came; the evening of the 27th fell calm and serene, but very dark; a few stars only were faintly reflected from the surface of the waters. As the British sentinels paced slowly to and fro upon the rocky shore of the island of Orleans facing toward Quebec, the silence of the night was only broken by the echo of their own footsteps and the ripple of the rapidly receding tide. About midnight a soldier on one of the most advanced points called the attention of his comrades on the neighboring posts to some dark objects moving along the river--slowly, as if drifting with the tide in the direction of the fleet, or rather toward some shoals to the northward of the fleet, which had been marked out by buoys during the preceding day. While the sentinels were yet debating about giving the alarm, each of the dark objects sent forth a crashing salvo of artillery; grape-shot rattled among the rocks and trees upon the shore, and plowed up the surrounding waters. Shells and grenades leaped into the air, and exploded with loud reports, now here, now there, on every side of the astounded soldiers. At the same time bright red flames burst from these fire-ships, sprung up among the masts and spars, quivered through the distinctly visible tracery of the rigging, and spread out in broad sheets over the collapsing sails. The river, the hostile camps, the city, and the distant mountains, instantly stood revealed as in noonday by this lurid light. As the blaze spread, explosion after explosion racked the burning vessels; they staggered and spun half round under the shocks; but still the ebb tide swept them rapidly on, near to where the crowded transports lay.