might have been expected, with a storm of abusive shouts and evil words, Classidas and his captains hurrying to the walls to carry on the fierce exchange of abuse.  To be called dairy-maid and peronnelle was a light matter, but some of the terms used were so cruel that, according to some accounts, she betrayed her womanhood by tears, not prepared apparently for the use of such foul weapons against her.  The Journal du Siege declares, however, that she was “aucunement yree” (angry), but answered that they lied, and rode back to the city.

The next Sunday, the 1st of May, Dunois, alarmed by the delay of his main body, set out for Blois to meet them, and we are told that Jeanne accompanied him to the special point of danger, where the English from their fortifications might have stopped his progress, and took up a position there, along with La Hire, between the expedition and the enemy.  But in the towers not a man budged, not a shot was fired.  It was again a miracle, and she had predicted it.  The party of Dunois marched on in safety, and Jeanne returned to Orleans, once more receiving on the breeze some words of abuse from the defenders of those battlements, which sent forth no more dangerous missile, and replying again with her summons, “Retournez de la par Dieu a Angleterre.” The townsfolk watched her coming and going with an excitement impossible to describe; they walked by the side of her charger to the cathedral, which was the end of every progress; they talked to her, all speaking together, pressing upon her—­and she to them, bidding them to have no fear.  “Messire has sent me,” she said again and again.  She went out again, Wednesday, 4th May, on the return of Dunois, to meet the army, with the same result, that they entered quietly, the English not firing a shot.

On this same day, in the afternoon, after the early dinner, there happened a wonderful scene.  Jeanne, it appeared, had fallen asleep after her meal, no doubt tired with the expedition of the morning, and her chief attendant, D’Aulon, who had accompanied Dunois to fetch the troops from Blois, being weary after his journey, had also stretched himself on a couch to rest.  They were all tired, the entry of the troops having been early in the morning, a fact of which the angry captains of Orleans, who had not shared in that expedition, took advantage to make a secret sortie unknown to the new chiefs.  All at once the Maid awoke in agitation and alarm.  Her “voices” had awakened her from her sleep.  “My council tell me to go against the English,” she cried; “but if to assail their towers or to meet Fastolfe I cannot tell.”  As she came to the full command of her faculties her trouble grew.  “The blood of our soldiers is flowing,” she said; “why did they not tell me?  My arms, my arms!” Then she rushed down stairs to find her page amusing himself in the tranquil afternoon, and called to him for her horse.  All was quiet, and no doubt her attendants thought