She was long in understanding what this meant.  St. Michael told her she should receive other angelic visitors, and often after this St. Catherine and St. Margaret appeared to her, and told her what was required of her, and what she must do.  At first she was greatly affrighted, and wept, and besought them to find some other for the task, since she was but a humble country maid, and knew nothing of the art of warfare, and shuddered at the sight of blood.  But they told her to be brave, to trust in the Lord, to think only of Him and of His holy will towards her.  And so, by degrees, she lost all her fears, knowing that it was not of herself she would do this thing, and that her angels would be with her, her saints would watch over her, and her voices direct her in all that she should speak or do.

“And now,” she added, clasping her hands, and looking full into my face, “now do they tell me that the time is at hand.  Since last Ascensiontide they have bid me wait in quietness for the appointed hour; but of late my voices have spoken words which may not be set aside.  I must be sent to the Dauphin.  Orleans must be saved from the hosts of the English which encompass it.  I am appointed for this task, and I shall accomplish it by the grace of my Lord and His holy saints.  Then the crown must be set upon the head of the Dauphin, and he must be anointed as the king.  After that my task will be done; but not till then.  And now I must needs set forth upon the appointed way.  To the Dauphin I must go, to speak to him of things I may tell to none other; and the Sieur Robert de Baudricourt is appointed of Heaven to send me to Chinon.  Wherefore, I pray you, gentle knight, bid him no longer delay; for I am straitened in spirit till I may be about my Lord’s business, and He would not have me tarry longer.”

I talked with her long and earnestly.  Not that I doubted her.  I could not do so.  Although no voices came to me, yet my heart was penetrated by a conviction so deep and poignant that to doubt would have been impossible.  France had been sold and betrayed by one bad woman; but here was the Maid who should arise to save!  I knew it in my heart; yet I still spoke on and asked questions, for I must needs satisfy De Baudricourt, I must needs be able to answer all that he would certainly ask.

“How old are you, fair maiden?” I asked, as at length I rose to depart, and she stood, tall and slim, before me, straight as a young poplar, graceful, despite her coarse raiment, her feet and hands well fashioned, her limbs shapely and supple.

“I was seventeen last week,” she answered simply, “the fifth of January is my jour de fete.”

“And your parents, what think they of this?  What said they when you bid them farewell for such an errand?”

The tears gathered slowly in her beautiful eyes; but they did not fall.  She answered in a low voice: 

“In sooth they know not for what I did leave them.  They believed I went but to visit a sick friend.  I did not dare to tell them all, lest my father should hold me back:  He is very slow to believe my mission; he chides me bitterly if ever word be spoken anent it.  Is it not always so when the Lord uses one of His children?  Even our Lord’s brethren and sisters believed not on Him.  How can the servant be greater than his Lord?”