They came and told us what the crowd of soldiers in the street was shouting; they begged that the Maid would show herself at some window, and promise that she would remain with the army.  Indeed, there was almost a danger of riot and disaster if something were not done to quell the excitement of the soldiery and the populace; and at this news the Maid suddenly drew her slender, drooping figure to its full height, and looked long and steadfastly at the King.

“Sire,” she said, “I give myself to you and to France.  My Lord knows that I seek in this to do His will, though differently from heretofore.  You will be disappointed.  Many will misjudge me.  There will be sorrow and anguish of heart as well as triumph and joy.  But if my country calls, I go forth gladly to meet her cry—­even though I go to my death!”

I do not know how many heard her last words; for they were drowned in the roar of joyful applause which followed her declaration.  The King gave her his hand, and led her forth upon a balcony, where the great concourse in the street below could see them; and by signs he made them understand that she would continue with him as one of his Commanders-in-Chief; and in hearing this the city well nigh went mad with joy; bonfires blazed and bells pealed madly; and the cry heard in the streets was less “Long live the King!” than that other frantic shout, “The maid of Orleans!  The maid of Orleans!”

But the Maid returned to her apartments with a strange look upon her face; and she held out her hand to me as one who would fain ask help and sympathy of a trusted comrade, as I am proud to think I was regarded at that time by her.

“The King’s word has prevailed, O my friend,” she said, “but I would that I were sure it will be for the best!”

“How can it be otherwise than for the best?” I answered as I held her hand in mine, and looked searchingly into her fair, grave face.  “Will not your Lord help you yet?  Do not all men trust in you?  Will not the soldiers fight for and with you?  And are you not sure in your heart that the cause of the French King will yet triumph?”

Her eyes were misty with unshed tears as she made reply: 

“I know that my Lord will not desert me; and I trust I may serve Him yet, and the King whom I love.  I know that all will be well—­at the last—­for this fair realm of France.  But I have no commission direct from my Lord as I have had hitherto.  My voices yet speak gentle and kindly words.  I trow that my saints will watch over me, and that they will give me strength to strive and to overcome.  For myself I fear not—­I am ready to die for my King and my country if that be the will of God.  Only the shadow lies athwart my path, where until today all was brightness and sunshine.  It would have been so sweet to go home to my mother, to see the Fairy Tree, and the old familiar faces, and listen once more to the Angelus bell!  I had thought that I should by this have earned my rest.  I had not thought that with so many to serve him, the King would have had further use for me.”