Those there were amongst us who even came and petitioned of her to lead us thither, and strike a death blow, once and for all, against the power of the alien foe who had ruled our fair realm too long; but though her eyes brightened as we spoke, and though all that was martial in her nature responded to the appeal thus made to her—­for by this time she was a soldier through every fibre of her being, and albeit ever extraordinarily tender towards the wounded, the suffering, the dying—­be they friends or foes—­the soldier spirit within her burned ever higher and higher, and she knew in her clear head that humanly speaking, we could embark upon such a victorious march as perchance the world has never seen before—­certainly not beneath such a leader.

And yet she shook her head, even whilst her cheek flushed and her eyes sparkled.  Little as the King had done to merit the deep devotion of such a nature as hers, the Maid’s loving loyalty towards, and faith in him never wavered.  Although we all saw in him the idle, pleasure loving, indolent weakling, which in those days he was, she could, or would, find no fault with him.  Often as he disappointed her, she never ceased to love and honour him.  Perchance it was given to her to see something of that manlier nature which must have underlaid even then that which we saw and grieved over.  For she would hear no word against him.  He was the centre and sun of her purpose, and her answer to us was spoken without hesitation.

“Nay, my friends, we have other work to do ere we may stand before the walls of Paris.  The Dauphin must be brought to Rheims, and the crown set upon his head; for thus hath my Lord decreed, and I may not act other than as my voices direct.”

And when the Maid spoke thus, there was no contradicting or gainsaying her.  We had such confidence in her by this, that whatever she did was right in our eyes The soldiers would have followed her eagerly to the very walls of Paris; but at her command they turned back and marched, with pennons flying and music sounding, to the Court of the King, where news of the Chasse of Patay had already preceded us, and where a joyous welcome awaited our return, though even now there were sour and jealous faces amongst the nearest advisers of the King.

If you would believe it, they still opposed the journey of the King to Rheims, working on his fears, his irresolution, his indolence, and seeking to undermine the influence of the Maid, when she went personally to see him, that she might speak with him face to face.  He himself had many excuses to offer.

“Sweet Chevaliere,” he would say, calling her by one of the names which circulated through the Court, “why such haste?  Is it not time that you should rest and take your ease after your many and arduous toils?  Think what you have accomplished in these few days!  Flesh and blood cannot continue at such a strain.  Let us now enjoy the fruits of these wonderful victories; let us feast and rejoice and enjoy a period of repose.  Surely that is prudent counsel; for we must have care for our precious Maid, whom none can replace in our army, if she, by too arduous toil, should do herself an injury!”