“I trow she did,” he answered, “but think you that the ribald jests of mortal men can touch one of the angels of God?  She stood for a moment framed in the doorway, and I tell you I lie not when I declare that it seemed to all present as though a halo of pure white light encircled her.  Where the light came from I know not; but many there were, like myself, who noted it.  The far end of the hall was dim and dark; but yet we saw her clear as she moved forward.  Upon her face was a shining such as I have seen upon none other.  She wore the simple peasant dress of her class, with the coif upon her head; yet it seemed to me—­ay, and to others too—­as though she was habited in rich apparel.  Perchance it was that when one had seen her face, one could no longer think upon her raiment.  If a queen—­if an angel—­if a saint from heaven stood in stately calm and dignity before one’s eyes, how could we think of the raiment worn?  We should see nothing but the grandeur and beauty of the face and form!”

“Mort de Dieu!” cried Sir Guy with his favourite oath, “but you look, good Bertrand, as though you had gazed upon some vision from the unseen world!”

“Nay,” he answered gravely, “but I have looked upon the face of one whom God has visited through His saints.  I have seen the reflection of His glory in human eyes; and so I can never say with others that the days of miracles are past.”

Bertrand spoke with a solemnity and earnestness which could not but impress us deeply.  Our eyes begged him to continue, and he told the rest of his tale very simply.

“She came forward with this strange shining in her eyes.  She bent before us with simple reverence; but then lifted herself up to her full height and looked straight at De Baudricourt without boldness and without fear, as though she saw in him a tool in the hand of God, and had no other thought for him besides.

“‘Seigneur,’ she said, ’my Lord has bidden me come to you, that you may send me to the Dauphin; for He has given me a message to him which none else may bear; and He has told me that you will do it, therefore I know that you will not fail Him, and your laughter troubles me not.’

“‘Who is your Lord, my child?’ asked De Baudricourt, not laughing now, but pulling at his beard and frowning in perplexity.

“‘Even the Lord of Heaven, Sire,’ she answered, and her hands clasped themselves loosely together whilst her eyes looked upward with a smile such as I have seen on none other face before.  ’He that is my Lord and your Lord and the Lord of this realm of France.  But it is His holy will that the Dauphin shall be its King, and that he shall drive back the English, and that the crown shall be set upon his head.  And this, with other matters which are for his ear alone I am sent to tell him; and you, good my lord, are he who shall send me to my King.’

“Thus she spoke, and looked at us all with those shining eyes of hers; yet it seemed to me she scarce saw us.  Her glance did go beyond, as though she were gazing in vision upon the things which were to be.”