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is a King of the name of Charles VII, whose mind runs only upon ruling the hearts of easy-going women. Unnerved by indulgence, ungrateful, selfish, regardless of his honor, that prince, hemmed in at Chinon or Loches by his favorites and his mistresses, allows his soldiers to fight and die in the defence of the fragments of his kingdom, but has never been seen at the head of his troops."

      "It is a disgrace to the royalty!"

      "There is another King. His name is George of La Tremouille, a jealous despot, consumed with malice and vainglory, resentful. He rules supreme over the two or three provinces that the kingdom of France now consists of, and he dominates the royal council. He is the real master."

      "I knew that the steward of the palace of our do-nothing King was the Sire of La Tremouille; it is to him I meant to write."

      "Do no such thing, Robert; take my advice!"

      "You say yourself he is the master – the King in fact!"

      "Yes; but anxious to remain master and King in fact, he will not tolerate that any other than himself find the means to save Gaul. The Sire of La Tremouille will, you may rest assured, reject Joan's intervention. Write, on the contrary, direct to Charles VII. He will be struck by the strangeness of the occurrence. If only out of curiosity he will want to see Joan. He finds the day long in his retreat of Loches or Chinon. The blandishments even of his mistresses are often unavailing to draw him from his ennui. The arrival of Joan will be a novelty to him; a pastime."

      "You are a good adviser. I shall write direct to the King and expedite a messenger to him on the spot. Should the answer be favorable to Joan, would you still think of accompanying her?"

      "Then more than ever!"

      "The journey is long. You will have to traverse part of Burgundy and of Champagne, both of them occupied by the enemy."

      "I shall take with me my equerry Bertrand of Poulagny, a prudent and resolute man. I shall join to him four well armed valets. A small troop passes more easily unperceived. Moreover, as Joan wisely proposed, we shall avoid the towns all we can by traveling by night, and shall rest by day in isolated farm-houses."

      "Do not forget that you will have to cross many rivers; since the war, the bridges are everywhere destroyed."

      "We will find ferries at all the rivers. From here we shall go to St. Urbain, where we can stay without danger; we shall avoid Troyes, St. Florentin, and Auxerre; arrived at Gien, we shall be on friendly soil. We shall then proceed to Loches or Chinon, the royal residences."

      "Admit it, Sire of Novelpont, are you not slightly smitten by the beauty of Joan?"

      "Sire Robert of Baudricourt, I feel proud of being the knight of the warrior-maid and heroine, who, perhaps, may yet save Gaul."

      CHAPTER XVIII

      "GOOD LUCK, JOAN!"

      Towards sun-down of February 28 of the year 1429, a large crowd consisting of men, women and children pressed around the Castle of Vaucouleurs. The crowd was impatient; it was enthusiastic.

      "Are you sure the pretty Joan will leave the castle by this gate?" asked one of the crowd, addressing at random his nearest neighbor.

      "I think so – she can not go out on horseback by the postern gate. She is to ride along the ramparts with the Sire of Novelpont, who is to escort her on her long journey. We shall be able to get a good view of her here on her fine white horse."

      "Our hearts all go out to her," remarked a third.

      "The prophecy of Merlin is fulfilled. Well did he say —Gaul, lost by a woman, will be saved by a virgin from the borders of Lorraine and a forest of old oaks!" said a fourth.

      "She will deliver us from the English! The poor will again be able to breathe! Peace and work for all!"

      "No more war alarms; no more conflagrations; no more pillaging; no more massacres! May her name be blessed!"

      "It is God who sent us Joan the Maid – Glory to God!"

      "And yet a daughter of the field – a simple shepherdess!"

      "The Lord God inspires her – she alone is worth a whole army. The archangels will fight on her side."

      "Do you know that Master Tiphaine, the curate of the parish of St. Euterpe, undertook to exorcise the Maid in case she was a sorceress and was possessed of a demon? The clerk carried the cross, the choir-boy the holy-water, and Master Tiphaine carried the sprinkler. But he did not dare to approach the Maid too near, fearing some trick of the spirit of Evil. But Joan smiled and said: 'Come near, good Father, I shall not fly away.'"42

      "She felt quite sure that she was a daughter of God!"

      "Evidently she is a virgin. After the exorcism no clawy demon leaped out of her mouth!"

      "Everybody knows that the devil can not inhabit the body of a virgin. Consequently Joan can not be a sorceress, whatever people may have said of her god-mother Sybille."

      "So far from suspecting that Joan was an invoker of demons, Master Tiphaine was so edified with her mildness and modesty that the day after the exorcism he admitted her to holy communion – she ate the bread of the angels."

      "That was lucky! Who, if not Joan, could eat angels' bread?"

      "Do you know, friends, that while the Sire of Baudricourt was waiting for the answer of the King, and, by God, it seems the answer was long in coming, the Duke of Lorraine, hearing the report that Joan was the maid foretold by Merlin, wished to see her?"

      "And did he?"

      "The Sire of Novelpont took Joan to the duke. 'Well, my young girl,' said the duke to her, 'you who are sent by God should be able to give me advice; I am sick, and, it looks to me, near my end – '"

      "So much the worse for him! Who does not know that the duke is suffering from the consequences of his debaucheries, and that, in order to indulge them at his ease, he has bravely cast off his own wife?"

      "No doubt Joan must have known all that, because she answered the duke: 'Monseigneur, call the duchess back to your side, lead an honest life, God will not forsake you.43 Help yourself and heaven will help you.'"

      "Well answered, holy girl!"

      "It is said that those are her favorite words – 'Help yourself and heaven will help you!'"

      "Well, may heaven and all its saints protect her during the long journey that she is to undertake!"

      "Is it credible? – a poor child of seventeen years to command an army?"

      "Myself and five other archers of the company of the Sire of Baudricourt," said a sturdy looking soldier, "requested him as a favor to allow us to escort Joan the Maid. He refused! By the bowels of the Pope, I would have liked to have that beautiful girl for a captain! Led by her, I would defy all the English put together! Yes, by the navel of Satan, I would!"

      "Armed men commanded by a woman! That surely is odd!" observed an impressed cynic.

      "Two beautiful eyes looking upon you and seeming to say: 'March upon the enemy!' are enough to set one's heart on fire! And if, besides, a sweet voice says to you: 'Courage – forward!' that would be enough to turn the biggest coward into a hero!"

      "Above all if the voice is inspired by God, my brave archer."

      "Whether she be inspired by God, by the devil or by her own bravery, I care as little as for a broken arrow. If one were but alone against a thousand, he must have the cowardice of a hare not to follow a beautiful girl, who, sword in hand, rushes upon the enemy."

      "I can not help thinking of the pain it must give Joan's family to have her depart, however glorious the Maid's destiny may be. Her mother must feel very sad."

      "I have it from Dame Laxart that James Darc, a very strict and rough man, after having twice had his daughter written to, ordering her return home, and objecting to her riding away with men-at-arms, has invoked a curse upon her. Furthermore, he forbade his wife and his two sons ever again to see Joan. She wept all the tears

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