The missive was carried by the King’s archer, who knew his road right well, and was acquainted with the person of Sir Guy.  He was to ride forward in all haste, whilst we were to follow in slower and more cautious fashion.

I think it was about the fifth day of March when the great towers of Chinon first broke upon our gaze.  We had been travelling all the night, and it was just as the dawn was breaking that we espied the huge round turrets rising, as it were, from amid the mists which clung about the river and its banks.  There we halted, for no message had yet come from the King; but upon the Maid’s face was a look of awe and radiant joy as she stood a little apart, gazing upon the goal of her toilsome journey.  No fear beset her as to her reception, just as no fears had troubled her with regard to perils by the way.

“God clears the road for me,” she said, when news had been brought from time to time of bands of soldiers whom we had narrowly escaped; and now, as she looked upon the towers of Chinon, growing more and more distinct as the daylight strengthened, her face wore a smile of serene confidence in which natural fear and shrinking had no part.

“The Dauphin will receive me.  Fear nothing.  The work which is begun will go forward to its completion.  God hath spoken in His power.  He hath spoken, and His word cannot fail.”

So after we had fed she lay down, wrapped in a cloak, and fell asleep like a child; whilst I rode forward a little way along the plain, for I had seen a handful of horsemen sallying forth, as it seemed from the Castle, and I hoped that it was Sir Guy bearing letter or message from the King.

Nor was I mistaken in this hope.  Soon I was certain of my man, and Sir Guy in turn recognising me, spurred forward in advance of his followers, and we met alone in the plain, Bertrand, my companion, being with me.

“So there really is to be a miracle worked, and by a Maid!” cried Sir Guy, as we rode with him towards our camp; “Mort de Dieu—­but it is passing strange!  All the Court is in a fever of wonder about this Angelic Maid, as some call her; whilst others vow she is either impostor or witch.  Is it the same, Bertrand, of whom you did speak upon the day we parted company?”

“The same; and yet in one way not the same, for since then she hath grown apace in power and wonder, so that all who see her marvel at her, and some be ready to worship her.  But we will say no more.  You shall see for yourself, and the King also shall see, if he refuse not to receive one who comes to him as the messenger of God.”

“I am sent to conduct the Maid presently to the Castle,” answered Sir Guy.  “There is now great desire to see her and hear her, and to try and test the truth of her mission.  The Generals scoff aloud at the thought of going to battle with a maid for leader.  The Churchmen look grave, and talk of witchcraft and delusion.  The ladies of the Court are in a fever to see her.  As for the King and his Ministers, they are divided in mind ’twixt hope and fear; but truly matters are come to such desperate pass with us that, if some help come not quickly, the King will flee him away from his distracted realm, and leave the English and Burgundians to ravage and subdue at will!”