“No, surely,” replied Joan:  “but there will be need to ride boldly; we shall give a good account of the English, and our spurs will serve us famously in pursuing them.”  The battle began on the 18th of June, at Patay, between Orleans and Chateaudun.  By Joan’s advice, the French attacked.  “In the name of God,” said she, “we must fight.  Though the English were suspended from the clouds, we should have them, for God hath sent us to punish them.  The gentle king shall have to-day the greatest victory he has ever had; my counsel hath told me they are ours.”  The English lost heart, in their turn; the battle was short, and the victory brilliant; Lord Talbot and the most part of the English captains remained prisoners.  “Lord Talbot,” said the Duke d’Alencon to him, “this is not what you expected this morning.”  “It is the fortune of war,” answered Talbot, with the cool dignity of an old warrior.  Joan’s immediate return to Orleans was a triumph; but even triumph has its embarrassments and perils.  She demanded the speedy march of the army upon Rheims, that the king might be crowned there without delay; but objections were raised on all sides, the objections of the timid and those of the jealous.  “By reason of Joan the Maid,” says a contemporary chronicler, “so many folks came from all parts unto the king for to serve him at their own expense, that La Tremoille and others of the council were much wroth thereat, through anxiety for their own persons.”  Joan, impatient and irritated at so much hesitation and intrigue, took upon herself to act as if the decision belonged to her.  On the 25th of June she wrote to the inhabitants of Tournai, “Loyal Frenchmen, I do pray and require you to be all ready to come to the coronation of the gentle King Charles, at Rheims, where we shall shortly be, and to come and meet us when ye shall learn that we are approaching.”  Two days afterwards, on the 27th of June, she left Gien, where the court was, and went to take up her quarters in the open country with the troops.  There was nothing for it but to follow her.  On the 29th of June, the king, the court (including La Tremoille), and the army, about twelve thousand strong, set out on the march for Rheims.  Other obstacles were encountered on the road.  In most of the towns the inhabitants, even the royalists, feared to compromise themselves by openly pronouncing against the English and the Duke of Burgundy.  Those of Auxerre demanded a truce, offering provisions, and promising to do as those of Troyes, Chalons, and Rheims should do.  At Troyes the difficulty was greater still.  There was in it a garrison of five or six hundred English and Burgundians, who had the burgesses under their thumbs.  All attempts at accommodation failed.  There was great perplexity in the royal camp; there were neither provisions enough for a long stay before Troyes, nor batteries and siege trains to carry it by force.  There was talk of turning back.  One of the king’s councillors, Robert