“God forbid!” said I, and crossed myself.

Scarce had I spoken the words before I saw approaching us on her chestnut charger the Maid herself, who rode forward to meet us at a foot’s pace, and reined back a few yards from us, her eyes fixed full upon the face of Sir Guy, who uncovered, I scarce know why, for how should he know that this youthful soldier was indeed the Maid herself?

“You come from the Dauphin,” she said; “go tell him that the darkest hour but heralds the dawn.  He must not flee away.  He must stay to face his foes.  I will lead his armies to victory, and he shall yet be crowned King of France.  Let him never speak more of deserting his realm.  That shall not—­that must not be!”

Sir Guy was off his horse by now; he bent his knee to the Maid.

“I will tell the King that the Deliverer hath truly come,” he said; and taking her hand, ere she could prevent it, he reverently kissed it.

CHAPTER VI.  HOW THE MAID CAME TO THE KING.

So Guy de Laval had fallen beneath the spell of the Maid, even as we had done.  He spoke of it to me afterwards.  It was not because of her words, albeit she had plainly shown knowledge of that which he had been saying before her approach.  It was not the beauty of her serene face, or the dignity of her mien.  It was as though some power outside of himself urged him to some act of submission.  An overshadowing presence seemed to rest upon him as with the touch of a hand, and he who had laughed at the idea of the restoration of miracles suddenly felt all his doubts and misgivings fall away.

We rode together back to our camp, and there we talked long and earnestly of many things.  The Maid had much to ask of Sir Guy, but her questions were not such as one would have guessed.  She never inquired how the Dauphin (as she always called him) had first heard of her, how he regarded her, what his Ministers and the Court thought of her mission, whether they would receive her in good part, what treatment she might expect when she should appear at Chinon.

No; such thoughts as these seemed never to enter her head.  She was in no wise troubled as to the things which appertained to herself.  Not once did a natural curiosity on this ground suggest such inquiries; and though we, her followers, would fain have asked many of these questions, something in her own absence of interest, her own earnestness as to other matters, restrained us from putting them.

It was of the city of Orleans she desired to know.  What was the condition of the garrison?  What were the armies of England doing?  What was the disposition of the beleaguering force?  Was any project of relief on foot amongst the Dauphin’s soldiers?  Did they understand how much depended upon the rescue of the devoted town?