said the vexed Duncan, dryly; remembering instantly his recent by-play
with Munro.

"Your pardon, monsieur," rejoined the Frenchman, suffering a slight
color to appear on his dark cheek. "There is a vast difference between
understanding and speaking a foreign tongue; you will, therefore, please
to assist me still." Then, after a short pause, he added: "These hills
afford us every opportunity of reconnoitering your works, messieurs, and
I am possibly as well acquainted with their weak condition as you can be
yourselves."

"Ask the French general if his glasses can reach to the Hudson," said
Munro, proudly; "and if he knows when and where to expect the army of
Webb."

"Let General Webb be his own interpreter," returned the politic
Montcalm, suddenly extending an open letter toward Munro as he spoke;
"you will there learn, monsieur, that his movements are not likely to
prove embarrassing to my army."

The veteran seized the offered paper, without waiting for Duncan to
translate the speech, and with an eagerness that betrayed how important
he deemed its contents. As his eye passed hastily over the words, his
countenance changed from its look of military pride to one of deep
chagrin; his lip began to quiver; and suffering the paper to fall from
his hand, his head dropped upon his chest, like that of a man whose
hopes were withered at a single blow. Duncan caught the letter from the
ground, and without apology for the liberty he took, he read at a glance
its cruel purport. Their common superior, so far from encouraging them
to resist, advised a speedy surrender, urging in the plainest language,