When the reading was finished the officer pulled his watch out of
his pocket, and held it towards Frontenac.
"I cannot see the time," said he.
"It is ten o'clock," replied the Englishman. "By eleven I must have
your answer."
Frontenac's brow grew dark with anger. Hitherto he had held himself
in check, but now his wrath burst forth.
"By heaven," he cried, "I will not keep you waiting so long. Tell
your General that I do not acknowledge King William. The Prince
of Orange who calls himself so is a usurper. I know of no king of
England save King James."
The Englishman was quite taken aback by Frontenac's vehemence. He
felt he could not go back to his leader with such an answer.
"Will you give me your answer in writing?" he said.
"No," thundered Frontenac, "I will answer your general with the
mouths of my cannon only. Let him do his best, and I will do mine."
And with this answer the Englishman was forced to be content.
Once more his eyes were blindfolded, and again he was jostled and
hustled through the streets until he reached his boat.
When Phips received Frontenac's proud answer he prepared to attack.
But he was no match for the fierce old lion of a Frenchman. The
New Englanders were brave enough, but they had little discipline,
and, worse still, they had no leader worthy of the name. They spent
shot and shell uselessly battering the solid rock upon which Quebec
is built.
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