Louisbourg and then sail up to Quebec and take it by
a sudden attack while Montcalm was engaged in fighting
Abercromby's army on Lake Champlain. The French, of
course, were anxious to hold out long enough to prevent
this; and Drucour, their commandant at Louisbourg, was
just the man for their purpose. His wife, too, was as
brave as he. She used to go round the batteries cheering
up the gunners, and paying no more attention to the
British shot and shell than if they had been only fireworks.
On June 18, just before Wolfe's lighthouse batteries were
ready to open fire, Madame Drucour set sail in the
venturesome _Echo_, a little French man-of-war that was
making a dash for it, in the hope of carrying the news
to Quebec. But after a gallant fight the _Echo_ had to
haul down her colours to the _Juno_ and the _Sutherland_.
We shall hear more of the _Sutherland_ at the supreme
moment of Wolfe's career.

Nothing French, not even a single man, could now get into
or out of Louisbourg. But Drucour still kept the flag
up, and sent out parties at night to harass his assailants.
One of these surprised a British post, killed Lord
Dundonald who commanded it, and retired safely after
being almost cut off by British reinforcements. Though
Wolfe had silenced the island batteries and left the
entrance open enough for Boscawen to sail in, the admiral
hesitated because he thought he might lose too many ships
by risking it. Then the French promptly sank some of
their own ships at the entrance to keep him out. But six
hundred British sailors rowed in at night and boarded