Curious logic, one must say.

“Did you not stand sponsor for some children baptized at Rheims?”

“At Troyes I did, and at St. Denis; and I named the boys Charles, in honor of the King, and the girls I named Joan.”

“Did not women touch their rings to those which you wore?”

“Yes, many did, but I did not know their reason for it.”

“At Rheims was your Standard carried into the church?  Did you stand at the altar with it in your hand at the Coronation?”

“Yes.”

“In passing through the country did you confess yourself in the Churches and receive the sacrament?”

“Yes.”

“In the dress of a man?”

“Yes.  But I do not remember that I was in armor.”

It was almost a concession! almost a half-surrender of the permission granted her by the Church at Poitiers to dress as a man.  The wily court shifted to another matter:  to pursue this one at this time might call Joan’s attention to her small mistake, and by her native cleverness she might recover her lost ground.  The tempestuous session had worn her and drowsed her alertness.

“It is reported that you brought a dead child to life in the church at Lagny.  Was that in answer to your prayers?”

“As to that, I have no knowledge.  Other young girls were praying for the child, and I joined them and prayed also, doing no more than they.”

“Continue.”

“While we prayed it came to life, and cried.  It had been dead three days, and was as black as my doublet.  It was straight way baptized, then it passed from life again and was buried in holy ground.”

“Why did you jump from the tower of Beaurevoir by night and try to escape?”

“I would go to the succor of Compiegne.”

It was insinuated that this was an attempt to commit the deep crime of suicide to avoid falling into the hands of the English.

“Did you not say that you would rather die than be delivered into the power of the English?”

Joan answered frankly; without perceiving the trap: 

“Yes; my words were, that I would rather that my soul be returned unto God than that I should fall into the hands of the English.”

It was now insinuated that when she came to, after jumping from the tower, she was angry and blasphemed the name of God; and that she did it again when she heard of the defection of the Commandant of Soissons.  She was hurt and indignant at this, and said: 

“It is not true.  I have never cursed.  It is not my custom to swear.”

  11 The Court Reorganized for Assassination

A Halt was called.  It was time.  Cauchon was losing ground in the fight, Joan was gaining it.

There were signs that here and there in the court a judge was being softened toward Joan by her courage, her presence of mind, her fortitude, her constancy, her piety, her simplicity and candor, her manifest purity, the nobility of her character, her fine intelligence, and the good brave fight she was making, all friendless and alone, against unfair odds, and there was grave room for fear that this softening process would spread further and presently bring Cauchon’s plans in danger.