So much time had been lost that Joan was not at Blois till the middle of April.  She entered the town on horseback; her head was uncovered.  All men admired her skillful riding and the poise of her lance.  Joan carried all before her now; she brought spirit to the troops; the armor laid down was buckled on afresh when she appeared; the hearts of the people were lifted up—­they would have died for her.  Charles, who had been with the army, slipped back to Chinon; but he left behind him better and braver men—­his five bravest leaders.  Joan began her work gloriously by clearing the camp of all bad characters.  Father Pasquerel bore her banner through the streets, while Joan, with the priests who followed, sang the Litany and exhorted men to prepare for battle by repentance and prayer.  In this, as in all else, she succeeded.

When the English heard that Joan was really coming, they pretended to scorn her.  Common report made Joan a prophet and a worker of miracles.  Hearts beat higher in Orleans than they had done for months.  More terror was in the English camp than it had ever known before.

The English took no heed of Joan’s order to submit.  They little thought that in a fortnight they would flee before a woman.

She entered the city at midnight.  LaHire and two hundred men, with lances, were her escort.  Though she had embarked close under an English fort, she was not molested.  Untouched by the enemy, coming in the midst of the storm, bringing plenty, and the lights of her procession shining in the black night, we can not wonder that the men of Orleans looked on her as in very truth the messenger of God.  They flocked round her, and he who could touch but her horse was counted happy.

Joan went straight to the cathedral, where she had the Te Deum chanted.  The people thought that already they were singing their thanksgivings for victory.  Despair was changed to hope; fear to courage.  She was known as “the Maid of Orleans.”  From the cathedral she went to the house of one of the most esteemed ladies of the town, with whom she had chosen to live.  A great supper had been prepared for her, but she took only a bit of bread sopped in wine before she went to sleep.  By her orders, the next day an archer fastened to his arrow a letter of warning, and shot it into the English lines.  She went herself along the bridge and exhorted the enemy to depart.  Sir William Gladsdale tried to conceal his fright by answering her with such rude words as made her weep.  Four days afterwards the real terror of the English was shown.  The Maid of Orleans and LaHire went to meet the second load of provisions.  As it passed close under the English lines not an arrow was shot against it; not a man appeared.