George de la Tremoille, the king’s favorite, shrugged their shoulders.  What could be expected from the dreams of a young peasant-girl of nineteen?  Influences of a more private character and more disposed towards sympathy—­Yolande of Arragon, for instance, Queen of Sicily and mother-in-law of Charles VII., and perhaps, also, her daughter, the young queen, Mary of Anjou, were urgent for the king to reply to Joan that she might go to Chinon.  She was authorized to do so, and, on the 6th of March, 1429, she with her comrades arrived at the royal residence.

At the very first moment two incidents occurred to still further increase the curiosity of which she was the object.  Quite close to Chinon some vagabonds, it is said, had prepared an ambuscade for the purpose of despoiling her, her and her train.  She passed close by them without the least obstacle.  The rumor went that at her approach they were struck motionless, and had been unable to attempt their wicked purpose.  Joan was rather tall, well shaped, dark, with a look of composure, animation, and gentleness.  A man-at-arms, who met her on her way, thought her pretty, and with an impious oath expressed a coarse sentiment.  “Alas!” said Joan, “thou blasphemest thy God, and yet thou art so near thy death!” He drowned himself, it is said, soon after.  Already popular feeling was surrounding her marvellous mission with a halo of instantaneous miracles.

[Illustration:  CHINON CASTLE——­95]

On her arrival at Chinon she at first lodged with an honest family near the castle.  For three days longer there was a deliberation in the council as to whether the king ought to receive her.  But there was bad news from Orleans.  There were no more troops to send thither, and there was no money forthcoming:  the king’s treasurer, it was said, had but four crowns in the chest.  If Orleans were taken, the king would perhaps be reduced to seeking a refuge in Spain or in Scotland.  Joan promised to set Orleans free.  The Orleannese themselves were clamorous for her; Dunois kept up their spirits with the expectation of this marvellous assistance.  It was decided that the king should receive her.  She had assigned to her for residence an apartment in the tower of the Coudray, a block of quarters adjoining the royal mansion, and she was committed to the charge of William Bellier, an officer of the king’s household, whose wife was a woman of great piety and excellent fame.  On the 9th of March, 1429, Joan was at last introduced into the king’s presence by the Count of Vendome, high steward, in the great hall on the first story, a portion of the wall and the fireplace being still visible in the present day.  It was evening, candle-light; and nearly three hundred knights were present.  Charles kept himself a little aloof, amidst a group of warriors and courtiers more richly dressed than he.  According to some chroniclers, Joan had demanded that “she should not be deceived, and should have pointed out to her