all appearance we would have taken Quebec by surprise had it not been
for one of Fortune's caprices, that have often as much share in the
events of war as the genius and talents of the greatest generals.

The Athenians were not in the wrong to paint Timotheus asleep, whilst
Fortune, in another part of the picture, was spreading nets over towns
to take them for him.

An artillery boat having been overturned and sunk by the sheets of
ice, which the current of the St. Lawrence brought down with great
force, an artilleryman saved himself on a piece of ice that floated
down the river with him upon it, without a possibility of his getting
to land, when he was opposite to the city.

The English, so soon as they perceived that poor distressed man--moved
with humanity and compassion--sent out boats, who with difficulty
saved him (the river being covered with fields of ice), and brought
him to town with scarce any sign of life. Having restored him with
cordials, the moment he began to breathe and recover his senses, they
asked him from whence he came, and who he was? he answered,
innocently, that he was a French cannonier from M. de Levis' army at
Cap Rouge. At first they imagined he raved, and that his sufferings
upon the river had turned his head; but, after examining him more
particularly and his answers being always the same, they were soon
convinced of the truth of his assertions, and were not a little
confounded to have the French army at three leagues from Quebec,
without possessing the smallest information of the fact. All their
care proved ineffectual for the preservation of life; he expired the
moment he had revealed this important secret. What a remarkable and
visible instance of fortune fighting for the English--equal at least