“It was done to prove her!”

“Ay, it was the thought of De la Tremouille, who has ridiculed her pretensions (the word is his) from first to last.  But it was a thought welcomed by all, as a passing merry jest.  Thus was it that I was not permitted to come and lead you in.  They did fear lest I should tell what was intended, and describe to the Maid the person or the dress of the King.  And now none can doubt; and, in sooth, it may be a wondrous thing for His Majesty himself, and take from him for ever that hateful fear which I always do declare has helped to paralyse him, and hold him back from action.”

I lowered my voice to a whisper as I said: 

“You mean the fear lest he was not the true son of the King?”

“Yes; his wicked mother hinted away her own honour in her desire to rob him of his crown.  He has known her for an evil woman.  Was it not likely he would fear she might speak truth?  Those who know him best know that he has often doubted his right to style himself Dauphin or King; but methinks after today that doubt must needs be set at rest.  If the Maid who comes from the King of Heaven puts that name upon him, need he fear to take it for his own?”

As we were thus speaking the Sieur de Boisi joined us.  He was perchance more fully in the King’s confidence than any other person at Court, and he was kinsman to De Laval, with whom he had plainly already had much talk upon this subject.  He drew us aside, and whispered a story in our ears.

“His Majesty did tell it me himself,” he said, “for there be nights when he cannot sleep, and he calls me from my couch at his bed’s foot, and makes me lie beside him, that we may talk at ease; and he told me, not long since, how that this trouble and doubt were so growing upon him, that once he had fasted for a whole day, and had passed the night upon his knees in the oratory, praying for a sign whereby he might truly know whether he were the real heir, and the kingdom justly his.  For that were it not so, he would sooner escape to Spain or Scotland to pass his days in peace; but that if the Lord would send him a sign, then he would seek to do his duty by the realm.”

With awe we looked into each other’s faces.

“The sign has come!” whispered Bertrand.

“Truly I do think it,” answered De Boisi.

“Surely His Majesty will recognise it as such!” said Sir Guy.

“I see not how it can be otherwise; and it will be like a great load lifted from his heart.”

“And he will surely hesitate no more,” I said, “but will forthwith give her a band of armed men, that she may sally forth to the aid of the beleaguered Orleans!”

But De Boisi and De Laval looked doubtful.

“I know not how that will be.  For there are many who will even now seek to dissuade the King, and will talk of witchcraft, and I know not what beside.  The Abbes and the Bishops and the priests are alike distrustful and hostile.  The Generals of the army openly scoff and jeer.  Some say that if the Maid be sent to Orleans, both La Hire and Dunois will forthwith retire, and refuse all further office there.  What can a peasant maid know of the art of war? they ask, and how can she command troops and lead them on to victory, where veterans have failed again and again?  And then the King knows not what to reply—­”