No doubt conversations of this kind were being carried on all over Rouen.  Would she be burned?  What would happen?  Could any one stand and answer like that hour after hour and day by day, inspired only by the devil?  There was no popular enthusiasm for her even now.  How should there have been in that partisan province, more English than French?  But a chill doubt began to steal into many minds whether she was so bad as had been thought, whether indeed she might not after all be something quite different from what she had been thought?  Nature had begun to work in the agitated place, and even in that black-robed, eager assembly.  If there was a vile L’Oyseleur trying to get her confidence in private, and so betray her, there was also a kind Frere Isambard, privately plucking at her sleeve, imploring her to be cautious, whispering an answer probably not half so wise as her own natural reply, yet warming her heart with the suggestion of a friend at hand.

On the fourth day, Jeanne was again required to swear, and replied as before, that so far as concerned the trial she would answer truly, but not all she knew.  “You ought to be satisfied:  I have sworn sufficiently,” she said; and with this her judges seem to have been content.  Beaupere then resumed his questions, but first asked her, perhaps with a momentary gleam of compassion and a sudden consciousness of the pallor and weariness of the young prisoner, how she did.  She answered, one can imagine with what tone of indignant disdain:  “You see how I am:  I am as well as I can be.”  He then cross-examined her closely as to what voices she had heard since her last appearance in court, but drew from her only the same answer, “The voice tells me to answer boldly,” and that she would tell them as much as she was permitted by God to tell them, but concerning her revelations for the King of France she would say nothing except by permission of her voices.

She was then asked what kind of voices they were which she heard, were they voices of angels, or of saints (sancti aut sanctae, male or female saints) or from God Himself?  She answered that the voices were those of St. Catherine and St. Margaret, whose heads were crowned with beautiful crowns, very rich and precious.  “So much as this God allows me to say.  If you doubt send to Poitiers, where I was questioned before.” (It may perhaps be permissible to suppose that the kind whisperer at her elbow might have suggested the repeated references to Poitiers that follow, but which are not to be found before:  though it was most natural she should refer to this place where she was examined at the beginning of her mission.) Asked how she knew which of these two saints, she answered that she could quite distinguish one from the other by the manner of their salutation; that she had been led and guided by them for seven years, and that she knew them because they had named themselves to her.  She was then asked how they were dressed? and answered:  “I cannot tell