This day, too, toward evening, a great rumor went flying abroad through the town—­namely, that the very governor himself was going to visit the young girl in her humble lodgings.  So in the morning the streets and lanes were packed with people waiting to see if this strange thing would indeed happen.  And happen it did.  The governor rode in state, attended by his guards, and the news of it went everywhere, and made a great sensation, and modified the scoffings of the people of quality and raised Joan’s credit higher than ever.

The governor had made up his mind to one thing:  Joan was either a witch or a saint, and he meant to find out which it was.  So he brought a priest with him to exorcise the devil that was in her in case there was one there.  The priest performed his office, but found no devil.  He merely hurt Joan’s feelings and offended her piety without need, for he had already confessed her before this, and should have known, if he knew anything, that devils cannot abide the confessional, but utter cries of anguish and the most profane and furious cursings whenever they are confronted with that holy office.

The governor went away troubled and full of thought, and not knowing what to do.  And while he pondered and studied, several days went by and the 14th of February was come.  Then Joan went to the castle and said: 

“In God’s name, Robert de Baudricourt, you are too slow about sending me, and have caused damage thereby, for this day the Dauphin’s cause has lost a battle near Orleans, and will suffer yet greater injury if you do not send me to him soon.”

The governor was perplexed by this speech, and said: 

“To-day, child, to-day?  How can you know what has happened in that region to-day?  It would take eight or ten days for the word to come.”

“My Voices have brought the word to me, and it is true.  A battle was lost to-day, and you are in fault to delay me so.”

The governor walked the floor awhile, talking within himself, but letting a great oath fall outside now and then; and finally he said: 

“Harkye! go in peace, and wait.  If it shall turn out as you say, I will give you the letter and send you to the King, and not otherwise.”

Joan said with fervor: 

“Now God be thanked, these waiting days are almost done.  In nine days you will fetch me the letter.”

Already the people of Vaucouleurs had given her a horse and had armed and equipped her as a soldier.  She got no chance to try the horse and see if she could ride it, for her great first duty was to abide at her post and lift up the hopes and spirits of all who would come to talk with her, and prepare them to help in the rescue and regeneration of the kingdom.  This occupied every waking moment she had.  But it was no matter.  There was nothing she could not learn—­and in the briefest time, too.  Her horse would find this out in the first hour.  Meantime the brothers and I took the horse in turn and began to learn to ride.  And we had teaching in the use of the sword and other arms also.