whether reasonable or unreasonable to them, for there was a sacred mystery about her,—­a reverence that extorted obedience.  Worldly-wise statesmen and prelates had not this unbounded admiration, although they doubtless regarded her as a moral phenomenon which they could not understand.  Her advice seemed to set aside all human prudence.  Nothing seemed more rash or unreasonable than to undertake the conquest of so many fortified cities with such feeble means.  It was one thing to animate starving troops to a desperate effort for their deliverance; it was another to assault fortified cities held by the powerful forces which had nearly completed the conquest of France.

The King came to meet the Maid at Tours, and would have bestowed upon her royal honors, for she had rendered a great service.  But it was not honors she wanted.  She seemed to be indifferent to all personal rewards, and even praises.  She wanted only one thing,—­an immediate march to Rheims.  She even pleaded like a sensible general.  She entreated Charles to avail himself of the panic which the raising of the siege of Orleans had produced, before the English could recover from it and bring reinforcements.  But the royal council hesitated.  It would imperil the King’s person to march through a country guarded by hostile troops; and even if he could reach Rheims, it would be more difficult to take the city than to defend Orleans.  The King had no money to pay for an army.  The enterprise was not only hazardous but impossible, the royal counsellors argued.  But to this earnest and impassioned woman, seeing only one point, there was no such thing as impossibility.  The thing must be done.  The council gave reasons; she brushed them away as cobwebs.  What is impossible for God to do?  Then they asked her if she heard the voices.  She answered, Yes; that she had prayed in secret, complaining of unbelief, and that the voice came to her, which said, “Daughter of God, go on, go on!  I will be thy help!” Her whole face glowed and shone like the face of an angel.

The King, half persuaded, agreed to go to Rheims, but not until the English had been driven from the Loire.  An army was assembled under the command of the Duke of Alencon, with orders to do nothing without the Maid’s advice.  Joan went to Selles to prepare for the campaign, and rejoined the army mounted on a black charger, while a page carried her furled banner.  The first success was against Jargeau, a strongly fortified town, where she was wounded; but she was up in a moment, and the place was carried, and Joan and Alencon returned in triumph to Orleans.  They then advanced against Bauge, another strong place, not merely defended by the late besiegers of Orleans, but a powerful army under Sir John Falstaff and Talbot was advancing to relieve it.  Yet Bauge capitulated, the English being panic-stricken, before the city could be relieved.  Then the French and English forces encountered each other in the open field:  victory sided with the French; and Falstaff himself fled, with the loss of three thousand men.  The whole district then turned against the English, who retreated towards Paris; while a boundless enthusiasm animated the whole French army.