It was Bertrand who rode forth in search of tidings, his heart burning within him.  It was he who nine days later entered Vaucouleurs again, weary and jaded, but with a great triumph light in his eyes.  He stood before De Baudricourt and spoke.

“It is even as the Maid hath said.  Upon the very day when we returned to Vaucouleurs, the English—­a small handful of men—­overthrew at Rouvray a large squadron of the French, utterly routing and well-nigh destroying them.  The English were but a small party, convoying herrings to the besiegers of Orleans.  The ground was strewn with herrings after the fight, which men call the Battle of the Herrings.  Consternation reigns in the hearts of the French—­an army flies before a handful!  The Maid spake truly; the need is desperate.  If help reach not the Dauphin soon, all will be lost!”

“Then let the Maid go!” thundered the old man, roused at last like an angry lion; “and may the God she trusts in guard and keep her, and give to her the victory!”

CHAPTER V. HOW THE MAID JOURNEYED TO CHINON.

So the thing had come to pass at last—­as she had always said it must.  Robert de Baudricourt was about to send her to the Court of the Dauphin at Chinon.  The weary days of waiting were at an end.  She was to start forthwith; she and her escort were alike ready, willing, and eager.  Her strange mystic faith and lofty courage seemed to have spread through the ranks of the chosen few who were to attend her.

I trow, had she asked it, half the men of Vaucouleurs would have gladly followed in her train; for the whole town was moved to its core by the presence of the Maid in its midst.  Almost were the townsfolk ready to worship her, only that there was something in her own simplicity and earnest piety which forbade such demonstration.  All knew that the Maid herself would be first to rebuke any person offering to her homage other than true man can and ought to offer to true woman.

And now let me speak here, once and for all, of the love and reverence and devotion which the Maid had power to kindle in the hearts of those with whom she came in contact.  I can indeed speak of this, for I am proud to this day to call myself her true knight.  From the first I felt towards her as I have felt to none since—­not even to the wife of my manhood’s tried affections.  It was such a love as may be inspired by some almost angelic, presence—­there was no passion in it.  I believe I speak truly when I say that not one of the Maid’s true followers and knights and comrades-in-arms, ever thought of her as possible wife—­ever even dreamed of her as lover.  She moved amongst us as a being from another sphere.  She inspired us with a courage, a power, and a confidence in her and in our cause, which nothing could shake or daunt.  She was like a star, set in the firmament of heaven.  Our eyes, our hearts turned towards her, but she was never as one of us.