The Maid spurred to the front, where were De Rais, Lore, Kennedy, and La Hire.  We could see her pointing with her staff, and hear speech high and angry, but the words we could not hear.  The captains looked downcast, as children caught in a fault, and well they might, for we were now as far off victualling Orleans as ever we had been.  The Maid pointed to the English keep at St. Jean le Blanc, on our side of the water, and, as it seems, was fain to attack it; but the English had drawn off their men to the stronger places on the bridge, and to hold St. Jean le Blanc against them, if we took it, we had no strength.  So we even wended, from the height of Olivet, for six long miles, till we reached the stream opposite Checy, where was an island.  A rowing-boat, with a knight in glittering arms, was pulled across the stream, and the Maid, in her eagerness, spurred her steed deep into the water to meet him.  He was a young man, brown of visage, hardy and fierce, and on his shield bore the lilies of Orleans, crossed with a baton sinister.  He bowed low to the Maid, who cried—­

“Are you the Bastard of Orleans?”

“I am,” he said, “and right glad of your coming.”

“Was it you who gave counsel that I should come by this bank, and not by the other side, and so straight against Talbot and the English?”

She spoke as a master to a faulty groom, fierce and high, and to hear her was marvel.

“I, and wiser men than I, gave that counsel,” said he, “deeming this course the surer.”

“Nom Dieu!” she cried.  “The council of Messire is safer and wiser than yours.”  She pointed to the rude stream, running rough and strong, a great gale following with it, so that no sailing-boats might come from the town.  “You thought to beguile me, and are yourselves beguiled, for I bring you better succour than ever came to knight or town—­the help of the King of Heaven.”

Then, even as she spoke, and as by miracle, that fierce wind went right about, and blew straight up the stream, and the sails of the vessels filled.

“This is the work of our Lord,” said the Bastard of Orleans, crossing himself:  and the anger passed from the eyes of the Maid.

Then he and Nicole de Giresme prayed her to pass the stream with them, and to let her host march back to Blois and so come to Orleans, crossing by the bridge of Blois.  To this she said nay, that she could not leave her men out of her sight, lest they fell to sin again, and all her pains were lost.  But, with many prayers, her confessor Pasquerel joining in them, she was brought to consent.  So the host, with priests and banners, must set forth again to Blois, while the Maid, and we that were of her company, crossed the river in boats, and so rode towards the town.  On this way (the same is a road of the old Romans) the English held a strong fort, called St. Loup, and well might they have sallied forth against us.  But the people of Orleans, who ever bore themselves more hardily than any townsfolk whom I have known, made an onfall against St. Loup, that the English within might not sally out against us, where was fierce fighting, and they took a standard from the English.