It was not Lord Talbot who came forth and stood upon his own end of the bridge, gazing haughtily across the space which divided them; but it was a notable soldier, whom the French called Classidas, though I have been told that his real name was Sir William Glassdale.  To him the Maid addressed herself in her clear mellow voice, which could be heard across the flowing river: 

“Retournez de la part Dieu a l’Angleterre!” was the burden of her charge, imploring him to have mercy upon himself and his soldiers, as else many hundreds of them, and himself also, must perish miserably, and perchance even without the offices of the Church.

But she was answered by roars of mocking laughter from the soldiers of the fort, and worse still, by gross insults from Classidas himself, hurled across at her from a biting tongue, which carried like the note of a trumpet.

Silently she stood and gazed at him; mournfully she turned and rode back to the town.

“May God have mercy upon their souls!” she prayed; and for the rest of the day she was sorrowful and sad.

“If it could have been done without bloodshed!” she murmured again and yet again.

Ah, and then the day when the news came that the relieving army was in sight!  Was she sad or pensive then?  No!  She sprang to her feet; she set down the little Charlotte, who was playing in her arms; she seized her weapons, her page flew to bring her full armour.  Her horse was already in waiting; she swung upon his back.  She waved her hand and called to us to rally about her.

“The English are preparing to fight!” she cried (how did she know? none had told her), “but follow me, and they will strike no blow.”

Already La Hire was at her side, seeking to dissuade her from leaving the shelter of the town.  She smiled at him, and rode through the gate, her white banner floating in the wind.

“See yonder; that is the point of danger.  We will station ourselves there, and watch our brave army march past.  They shall not be hurt nor dismayed.  All shall be well!”

So we rode, wondering and amazed, behind and around her, and at the appointed spot, in the very midst of the English lines, we halted, and made a great avenue for the army from Blois to pass through.  All gazed in wonder at the Maid.  All saluted deeply.  The English in their towers gazed in amaze, but fired no shot.  We all passed into the city in safety.

Great God, but how would it be with our Maid when the real battle and bloodshed should begin?

CHAPTER X. HOW THE MAID LED US INTO BATTLE.

“It was well indeed that you sent me forth on that mission, my Chieftainess,” spoke Dunois, as we sat at the long table in the Treasurer’s house, refreshing ourselves after the fatigues of the march to and from the city, and the anxiety of awaiting an attack, which had not come.  He bowed towards the Maid in speaking, calling her by a playful title in vogue amongst the officers and Generals who were her friends.  “Though what prompted you to that act of sagacity is more than I know.  I had no misgivings that there would be trouble with the army.”