The reader must understand that this was no special appeal to Jeanne’s miraculous power, but a custom of that intense and tender charity with which the Church of Rome corrects her dogmatism upon questions of salvation.  A child unbaptised could not be buried in consecrated ground, and was subject to all the sorrows of the unredeemed; but who could doubt that the priest would be easily persuaded by some wavering of the tapers on the altar upon the little dead face, some flicker of his own compassionate eyelids, that sufficient life had come back to permit the holy rite to be administered?  The whole little scene is affecting in the extreme, the young creatures all kneeling, fervently appealing to the Maiden-mother, the priest ready to take instant advantage of any possible flicker, the Maid of France, no conspicuous figure, but weeping and praying among the rest.  There was no thought here of the raising of the dead—­the prayer was for breath enough only to allow of the holy observance, the blessed water, the last possibility of human love and effort.

Jeanne was then questioned concerning Catherine of La Rochelle, the supposed prophetess, who had been played against her by La Tremouille and his follows, and narrated how she had watched two nights to see the mysterious lady clothed in cloth of gold who was said to appear to Catherine, but had not seen her, and that she had advised the woman to return to her husband and children.  Catherine’s mission was to go through the “good towns” with heralds and trumpets to call upon those who had money or treasure of any kind to give it to the King, and she professed to have a supernatural knowledge where such money was hidden.  (No doubt La Tremouille must have thought that to get money, which was so scarce, in such a simple way, was worth trying at least.  But Jeanne’s opinion was that it was folly, and that there was nothing in it; an opinion fully verified.  Catherine’s advice had been that Jeanne should go to the Duke of Burgundy to make peace; but Jeanne had answered that no peace could be made save at the end of the lance.)

She was then asked about the siege of La Charite; she answered, that she had made an assault:  but had not sprinkled holy water, or caused it to be sprinkled.  Asked, why she did not enter the city as she had the command of God to do so, she replied:  “Who told you that I was commanded to enter?” Asked, if she had not had the advice of her voices, she answered, that she had desired to go into France (meaning towards Paris), but the generals had told her that it was better to go first to La Charite.  She was then asked if she had been long in the tower of Beaurevoir; answered, that she was there about four months, and that when she heard the English come she was angry and much troubled.  Her voices forbade her several times to attempt to escape; but at last, in the doubt she had of the English she threw herself down, commending herself to God and to our Lady, and was much hurt.  But after she had done this the voice of St. Catherine said to her not to be afraid, that she should be healed, and that Compiegne would be relieved.