She did not even pause to note the effect of her words upon them, but sped onwards, fearless of danger, right into the very heart of the battle.  We followed and closed up round her; but that shining white figure could not be hidden.  The English saw it bearing down upon them, and instantly there was wavering in their ranks.  Before our swords had had time to strike at them, something touched them as with an icy hand.

“The Maid! the Maid!  The White Witch!” they cried, and they paused in their pursuit to gaze upon that dazzling figure, and methinks their hearts melted like wax within them.

From behind now arose a mighty tumult, and shouts and cries as of triumph thundered from the city walls.  Dunois and La Hire, more tardily advised of what was happening, but prompt and decisive in action, were galloping out of the Gate at the head of the picked soldiers under their command.  Rank behind rank we could see them flashing through the shadow into the sunshine, and dashing forward in compact order, their gaze fixed full upon the Maid in the centre of the plain, who stood with uplifted sword and fluttering pennon, a veritable angel of the battle.

But we saw other sights, too; for Lord Talbot was not idle on his side, but sent forth from other of the bastilles bodies of men to the aid of the defenders of St. Loup.

The whole plain was filled with surging masses of soldiers, rushing one upon the other in the fury of the fray.

How would the Maid bear it?  She whose tender heart ached at the thought of human suffering, and whose soul was filled with yearning sorrow for men struck down in their sins.  I pressed up towards her and saw her pitiful eyes fixed upon a convoy of wounded men, whom we had sent to rescue from their peril, lying as they did in the very heart of the plain.  The eyes which had been flashing fire a moment before, were suffused with tears, as the melancholy procession passed her by.

She turned to her page and said, “Ride quickly into the city, and bid the priests come forth to hear the confessions and give absolution to the dying.  Lose not a moment!  Tell them that souls are every moment being hurried to their last account.  Bid them make haste and come, and let them give equal care to friend and foe; for in death all men are equal in the sight of God, and I would not that any English soldier or prisoner should fall without the consolations of religion.”

Then, having thus done all that she could for the wounded and the dying, the Maid was once again the resolute soldier.  Her keen eyes swept the plain; she saw with lightning speed where the need was the greatest, where the peril to the French cause was direst, and sweeping into the midst of the press, her sword and her banner flashing in the sunshine, she ever brought succour and victory in her wake.