“What day will that be—­the day after to-morrow?”

“The seventh day of May,” he answered at once.

“Ah!” she said, “then it will be on that day—­the day which shall see Orleans relieved—­the power of the English broken.”

She spoke dreamily, and only Madame Boucher, who sat in the shadows with her child upon her lap, ventured to ask of her: 

“What will be on that day, gentle Jeanne?”

“That I shall be wounded,” she answered quietly.

“Did I not tell you long since,” turning to Bertrand and me, “that I should not come unscathed through the assault; but that on a certain day I should receive a wound?”

I pulled out my tablets, upon which I often recorded the sayings of the Maid, and sure enough there it was written down as she said.  We felt a great burning revolt at the thought of any hurt befalling her, and somebody spoke vehemently, saying that the holy Saints would surely protect her from harm.  But she lifted her hand with her gentle authority of gesture, and spoke: 

“Nay, my kind friends, but thus it must needs be; nor would I have it otherwise.  Listen, and I will tell you all.  I often had my days and hours of fear because this great work was put upon one so weak and ignorant as I, and it was long before I clearly understood that I was but the instrument in a mighty Hand, and that power for all would be given me.  Then my fear left and great joy came; perhaps even some pride and haughtiness of spirit in that I had been chosen for such a task.

“And then it was that my voices asked of me:  ’Jeanne, hast thou no fear?’

“And I answered without pause, ‘I fear nothing now.’

“Then St. Catherine herself suddenly appeared to me in a great white light and said:  ’Child, thou art highly favoured of heaven; but the flesh is easily puffed up.  And for this cause, and because it may be well that thou thyself and all men shall know that thou art but human flesh and blood, thou shalt not escape unscathed in warfare; but thou too shalt feel the sting of fiery dart, and know the scald of flowing blood.’

“I bowed my head and made answer I would bear whatever my Lord thought fit to lay upon me; and I asked if I might know when this thing would happen.  It was not told me then; but later it was revealed to me; and I know that upon the seventh day of May I shall be wounded—­” and she touched her right shoulder as she spoke, just below the neck.

“But what matter will that be, when the siege of Orleans shall be raised?”

Her face was aglow; nothing could touch her joy, not the insults of the proud Generals, nor the knowledge of coming pain for herself.  Her thought was all of the mission entrusted to her; and so, though thwarted and set aside, she showed no petty anger, dreamed not of any paltry vengeance such as others might have dealt the soldiers, by refusing to march with them on the morrow.  Oh, no; hurt she might be—­indeed we knew she was—­her pain being for the dishonour done her Lord in this disrespect of His messenger; but no thought of reprisal entered her head.  She rose from her seat, and lifted the little Charlotte in her strong young arms.