As for talk, there was but one topic, of course—­the desperate situation of France.  There was a rumor, some one said, that Salisbury was making preparations to march against Orleans.  It raised a turmoil of excited conversation, and opinions fell thick and fast.  Some believed he would march at once, others that he could not accomplish the investment before fall, others that the siege would be long, and bravely contested; but upon one thing all voices agreed:  that Orleans must eventually fall, and with it France.  With that, the prolonged discussion ended, and there was silence.  Every man seemed to sink himself in his own thoughts, and to forget where he was.  This sudden and profound stillness, where before had been so much animation, was impressive and solemn.  Now came a servant and whispered something to the governor, who said: 

“Would talk with me?”

“Yes, your Excellency.”

“H’m!  A strange idea, certainly.  Bring them in.”

It was Joan and her uncle Laxart.  At the spectacle of the great people the courage oozed out of the poor old peasant and he stopped midway and would come no further, but remained there with his red nightcap crushed in his hands and bowing humbly here, there, and everywhere, stupefied with embarrassment and fear.  But Joan came steadily forward, erect and self-possessed, and stood before the governor.  She recognized me, but in no way indicated it.  There was a buzz of admiration, even the governor contributing to it, for I heard him mutter, “By God’s grace, it is a beautiful creature!” He inspected her critically a moment or two, then said: 

“Well, what is your errand, my child?”

“My message is to you, Robert de Baudricourt, governor of Vaucouleurs, and it is this:  that you will send and tell the Dauphin to wait and not give battle to his enemies, for God will presently send him help.”

This strange speech amazed the company, and many murmured, “The poor young thing is demented.”  The governor scowled, and said: 

“What nonsense is this?  The King—­or the Dauphin, as you call him—­needs no message of that sort.  He will wait, give yourself no uneasiness as to that.  What further do you desire to say to me?”

“This.  To beg that you will give me an escort of men-at-arms and send me to the Dauphin.”

“What for?”

“That he may make me his general, for it is appointed that I shall drive the English out of France, and set the crown upon his head.”

“What—­you?  Why, you are but a child!”

“Yet am I appointed to do it, nevertheless.”

“Indeed!  And when will all this happen?”

“Next year he will be crowned, and after that will remain master of France.”

There was a great and general burst of laughter, and when it had subsided the governor said: 

“Who has sent you with these extravagant messages?”

“My Lord.”

“What Lord?”