She had been one of the first to prostrate herself at the new-made King’s feet when the coronation ceremony was over; and the tears streaming down her face had been eloquent testimony of her deep emotion.  But she had only breathed a few broken words of devotion and of joy, and had added something in a choked whisper which none but he had been able to hear.

“The King calls for the Maid!  The King desires speech with the Maid!” such was the word ringing through the hall; and she came quietly forth from her nook, the crowd parting this way and that before her, till she was walking up through a living avenue to the place where the King was now seated upon a throne-like chair on the dais at the far end of the hall.

As she came towards him the King extended his hand, as though he would meet her still rather as friend than as subject; but she kneeled down at his feet, and pressing her lips to the extended hand, she spoke in a voice full of emotion: 

“Gentle King, now is the pleasure of God fulfilled towards you.  Now is the will of my Lord accomplished.  To Him alone be the praise and glory!  It was His will that I should be sent before you to raise the siege of Orleans, to lead you to this city of Rheims, there to receive your consecration.  Now has He shown to all the world that you are the true King—­that it is His will you should reign over this fair realm, that this kingdom of France belongs to you and you alone.  My task is now accomplished.  His will in me is fulfilled.  Go forward, then, noble King—­strong in the power of your kingly might and right, doubting not that He will aid you still; though He will work with other instruments, with other means, for my task in this is now accomplished!”

There was a little stir and thrill throughout the hall as these words were spoken.  Dismay fell upon many, wonder upon all, triumph gleamed from the eyes of a few; but most men looked one at the other in consternation.  What did she mean by these words?—­this Heaven-sent Maid to whom we owed so much?  Surely she did not think to leave us just in the hour of her supreme triumph?  How could we hope to lead on the armies to fresh victories, if the soldiers were told that the Maid would no longer march with them?  Who would direct us with heavenly counsel, or with that marvellous clearness of vision which is given only to a few in this sinful world, and to those only whose hearts are consecrated by a great devotion, and a great love?  She could not mean that!  She loved France with an overwhelming fervour.  She was devoted to the service of the King, in whom she had never been able or willing to see wrong.  She knew her power with the army; she loved the rough soldiers who followed her unshrinkingly in the teeth of the very fiercest perils, and who would answer to her least command, when they would obey none other general.