Whether Charles VII. were or were not convinced by this interview of Joan’s divine mission, he clearly saw that many of those about him had little or no faith in it, and that other proofs were required to upset their doubts.  He resolved to go to Poitiers, where his council, the parliament, and several learned members of the University of Paris were in session, and have Joan put to the strictest examination.  When she learned her destination, she said, “In the name of God, I know that I shall have tough work there, but my Lord will help me.  Let us go, then, for God’s sake.”  On her arrival at Poitiers, on the 11th of March, 1429, she was placed in one of the most respectable families in the town, that of John Rabuteau, advocate-general in parliament.  The Archbishop of Rheims, Reginald de Chartres, Chancellor of France, five bishops, the king’s councillors, several learned doctors, and amongst others Father Seguin, an austere and harsh Dominican, repaired thither to question her.  When she saw them come in, she went and sat down at the end of the bench, and asked them what they wanted with her.  For two hours they set themselves to the task of showing her, “by fair and gentle arguments,” that she was not entitled to belief.  “Joan,” said William Aimery, professor of theology, “you ask for men-at-arms, and you say that it is God’s pleasure that the English should leave the kingdom of France, and depart to their own land; if so, there is no need of men-at-arms, for God’s pleasure alone can discomfit them, and force them to return to their homes.”  “In the name of God,” answered Joan, “the men-at-arms will do battle, and God will give them victory.”  Master William did not urge his point.  The Dominican, Seguin, “a very sour man,” says the chronicle, asked Joan what language the voices spoke to her.  “Better than yours,” answered Joan.  The doctor spoke the Limousine dialect.  “Do you believe in God?” he asked, ill-humoredly.  “More than you do,” retorted Joan, offended.  “Well,” rejoined the monk, “God forbids belief in you without some sign tending thereto:  I shall not give the king advice to trust men-at-arms to you, and put them in peril on your simple word.”  “In the name of God,” said Joan, “I am not come to Poitiers to show signs; take me to Orleans, and I will give you signs of what I am sent for.  Let me have ever so few men-at-arms given me, and I will go to Orleans;” then, addressing another of the examiners, Master Peter of Versailles, who was afterwards Bishop of Meaux, she said, “I know nor A nor B; but in our Lord’s book there is more than in your books; I come on behalf of the King of Heaven to cause the siege of Orleans to be raised, and to take the king to Rheims, that he may be crowned and anointed there.”  The examination was prolonged for a fortnight, not without symptoms of impatience on the part of Joan.  At the end of it, she said to one of the doctors, John Erault, “Have you paper and ink?  Write what I shall say to you.”  And she dictated a form of letter which became, some weeks later, the manifesto addressed in a more developed shape by her from Orleans to the English, calling upon them to raise the siege and put a stop to the war.  The chief of those piously and patriotically heroic phrases were as follows:—­