One Dominican monk sought to perplex her by asking why, since God had willed that France should be delivered through her, she had need of armed men?

Full fearlessly and sweetly she looked at him as she made answer: 

“It is my Lord’s will that I ask for soldiers, and that the Dauphin shall give me them.  The men shall fight; it is God who gives the victory.”

Another rough questioner amongst her judges sought to confuse her by asking what language her voices spoke.  They say that a flash flew from her eyes, though her sweet voice was as gentle as ever as she made answer: 

“A better language than yours, my father.”

And again, when the same man sought to know more of her faith and her love of God, having shown himself very sceptical of her voices and visions, she answered him, with grave dignity and an earnest, steadfast gaze: 

“I trow I have a better faith than yours, my father.”

And so, through all, her courage never failed, her faith never faltered, her hope shone undimmed.

“They must give me that which I ask; they cannot withstand God.  They cannot hurt me.  For this work was I born, and until it be accomplished I am safe.  I have no fear.”

Only once did she show anger, and then it was with a quiet dignity of displeasure, far removed from petulance or impatience.  They asked of her a sign that she was what she professed to be.

“I have not come to Poictiers to give a sign,” she answered, holding her head high, and looking fearlessly into the faces of those who sat to judge her.  “Send me to Orleans, with as small a band as you will.  But send me there, and you shall see signs and to spare that I come in the power of the King of Heaven.”

And so in the end her faith and courage triumphed.  The verdict ran somewhat thus: 

“We have found in her nothing but what is good.  To deny or hinder her intentions to serve the King would be to show ourselves unworthy of the assistance of God.”

Yes, they had to come to it; and I trust that there were many sitting there whose hearts smote them for ever having doubted, or sought to baffle or entrap her.  I cannot tell how far the judges were moved by the growing feeling in the town and throughout the district.  But the people crowded to see the Maid pass by, and all were ready to fall at her feet and worship her.  In the evenings they visited her at the house of Jean Ratabeau, the Advocate General, whose wife formed for her (as did every good and true woman with whom she came into contact during her life) an ardent admiration and affection.

And to their earnest questions she gave ready answer, sitting in the midst of an eager crowd, and telling them in her sweet and simple way the story of her life in Domremy, and how she had first heard these voices from Heaven, or seen wondrous visions of unspeakable glories; and how she had learnt, by slow degrees, that which her Lord had for her to do, and had lost, by little and little, the fear which first possessed her, till now she knew not of the name of the word.  She had but to follow where her voices guided.