but a regular life.  He asked Joan’s advice about his health.  “I have no power to cure you,” said Joan, “but go back to your wife and help me in that for which God ordains me.”  The duke ordered her four golden crowns, and she returned to Vaucouleurs, thinking of nothing but her departure.  There was no want of confidence and good will on the part of the inhabitants of Vaucouleurs in forwarding her preparations.  John of Metz, the knight charged to accompany her, asked her if she intended to make the journey in her poor red rustic petticoats.  “I would like to don man’s clothes,” answered Joan.  Subscriptions were made to give her a suitable costume.  She was supplied with a horse, a coat of mail, a lance, a sword, the complete equipment, indeed, of a man-at-arms; and a king’s messenger and an archer formed her train.  Baudricourt made them swear to escort her safely, and on the 25th of February, 1429, he bade her farewell, and all he said was, “Away then, Joan, and come what may.”

Charles VII. was at that time residing at Chinon, in Touraine.  In order to get there Joan had nearly a hundred and fifty leagues to go, in a country occupied here and there by English and Burgundians, and everywhere a theatre of war.  She took eleven days to do this journey, often marching by night, never giving up man’s dress, disquieted by no difficulty and no danger, and testifying no desire for a halt save to worship God.  “Could we hear mass daily,” said she to her comrades, “we should do well.”  They only consented twice, first in the abbey of St. Urban, and again in the principal church of Auxerre.  As they were full of respect, though at the same time also of doubt, towards Joan, she never had to defend herself against their familiarities, but she had constantly to dissipate their disquietude touching the reality or the character of her mission.  “Fear nothing,” she said to them; “God shows me the way I should go; for thereto was I born.”  On arriving at the village of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, near Chinon, she heard three masses on the same day, and had a letter written thence to the king, to announce her coming and to ask to see him; she had gone, she said, a hundred and fifty leagues to come and tell him things which would be most useful to him.  Charles VII. and his councillors hesitated.  The men of war did not like to believe that a little peasant-girl of Lorraine was coming to bring the king a more effectual support than their own.  Nevertheless some, and the most heroic amongst them,—­Dunois, La Hire, and Xaintrailles,—­were moved by what was told of this young girl.  The letters of Sire de Baudricourt, though full of doubt, suffered a gleam of something like a serious impression to peep out; and why should not the king receive this young girl whom the captain of Vaucouleurs had thought it a duty to send?  It would soon be seen what she was and what she would do.  The politicians and courtiers, especially the most trusted of them,