Again Jeanne bowed low, charming Alençon by her courtly manners. Then she

and the Duke followed the King to the dining hall. La Trémouille, the King’s favorite, was present also. Barrel-like in appearance, a toper, and a usurer, loaning money to the King and the nobles at high interest, La Trémouille was a

most important personage at Court. Dismissing the rest of the courtiers the King sat down at the table with the other three, the peasant maid not at all disturbed by being the guest of royalty. Yet but one short month agone she had been the guest of the humble Catherine le Royer, the wheelwright’s wife.

But Jeanne did not think of this. Her thoughts were for the Dauphin, and she was filled with the desire that he should govern wisely and well the realm which he held in trust from God. So she talked seriously to him, asking him to amend his life, and live after God’s will. He was to be clement, and to be a good lord to rich and poor, friend and enemy. If he would be all this the King of Heaven would do for him what he had done for his ancestors, and would restore him to his former estate.

And gazing into the bright, eager young face, flushed with courage and glowing

with celestial ardor the King was thrilled, and longed to do kingly deeds and to be worthy of the blood of Louis, his saintly ancestor. After the dinner the four went to the meadows by the river, where Jeanne guided her horse and wielded her lance with so much skill that both the King and the Duke marvelled.

“’Tis but an indifferent steed you ride, Pucelle,” spoke Alençon, for Jeanne was still using the horse that De Baudricourt had bought for her. “I will send you another that shall bear you more worthily.”

The very next day he presented her with a magnificent black charger which Jeanne rode thereafter. It was the beginning of a warm friendship between the two. He became one of the maiden’s most enthusiastic supporters, and Jeanne grew fond of him not only because he was son-in-law to the Duke of Orléans, but because the English had done him wrong, and he had a good will to fight.

Jeanne measured men by that standard. She had a wholesome, hearty contempt

for men who skulked at Court and spent their time in idle pleasure while France lay under the heel of the invader. Alençon had but just returned to his home after being held captive by the English for three years. It was told of him that his captors had proposed to give him back his liberty and his goods if he would join their party, but he rejected the offer. He was young like her, and Jeanne thought that like her he must be sincere and noble.

In spite of her increasing influence over churchmen, and captains, and people, the King still wavered, influenced by the Royal Council and the favorite. La

Trémouille, though indifferent to Jeanne, because he had not yet come to dread her power and to intrigue against her as he did a few months later, was disinclined to action, and had no intention of allowing Charles to shake off his indolence. So there were further delays while the King’s confessor and others examined the maiden daily. Though she was aware that these men questioned her

by orders from the King, Jeanne did not talk freely, but answered discreetly concerning her mission.

“In God’s name, my fair duke, why do they ask so many questions instead of setting me about my work?” she asked piteously of Alençon one day after a visit from some of the bishops.

“Perchance ’tis natural for them to doubt,” replied the duke consolingly. “You will have to be patient, Jeanne, though there is much to try you in delay.”

“Patient, patient!” ejaculated Jeanne, who was eating her heart out with the desire to engage the enemy immediately at Orléans.

“Can Orléans hold out forever? Why do they not take Messire’s word as it comes

to them? Daily do I pray to be delivered from these churchmen.”

Alençon laughed, but checked his mirth quickly at sight of the tears that were in Jeanne’s eyes.

“Endure a little longer, my friend,” he said gently. “I believe that the end of these many queries is in sight, though before it comes it has been decided to send you to Poictiers.”

“To Poictiers?” exclaimed Jeanne. “And why to Poictiers?”

“The Royal Council think it best for you to be examined by the learned Doctors

there,” he explained. “They acknowledge that they can find no fault in you, but before giving you men-at-arms to go to Orléans they wish that the Church should pass upon your inspiration. When that is over I believe that there will be no further delay in sending you to Orléans.”

“What is the use in having learned men ask me questions when I know neither A

nor B?” queried Jeanne, dashing the tears from her eyes. “But in God’s name, let us be going, since we must go. Much ado will be there, I know. But my Lord will help me. Now let us go, my bonny duke, in God’s strength.”

The very next day she set forth for Poictiers, attended by a large company, for many were eager to see how the peasant maid would acquit herself before the learned Doctors. Beside Alençon and her own knights there were certain veteran

men-at-arms among the company; men who laughed at the idea that a mere girl of seventeen could raise the siege of Orléans. There were many courtiers, some

who believed in the maid, and others who welcomed the diversion. The Queen’s

mother, Yolande, who wished to see her daughter seated firmly upon the throne

of France, and who believed in the simple shepherd maid, went also. But her presence did not console Jeanne, who fretted because so much valuable time was

being wasted.

There were learned doctors at Poictiers, which was distant some fifty miles from Chinon. Men who, loyal to the King, had left the University of Paris as soon as the capital had fallen into the hands of the English, and followed the fortunes of Charles, choosing this town for their abiding place, and later founding a university there. It was the home of the Bar also, the great legal center, and here, if anywhere in Charles’s dominions, it seemed probable that men might be found

able to distinguish between good spirits and bad.

On her arrival in the city Jeanne was lodged in the house of Maître Jean Robateau, the attorney general, a man of wealth and distinction, married to an excellent wife. The house was near the law courts, and had built into it a little chapel where Jeanne went at once to pray. It proved a haven of refuge in the days that followed.

The Archbishop of Reims presided over the Council which was soon held. The

Council appointed a Committee of Investigation, and sent emissaries to Domremy to inquire into her previous history. The Committee included several

professors of theology, an abbot, a canon of Poictiers, and one or two friars.

Escorted by a squire this Committee went to interview Jeanne at Robateau’s house, for she was not formally examined before the whole board of Doctors.

She came to meet them as they entered, but the sight of the priests irritated her.

She had been subjected to so much questioning at Chinon that she was weary of

it. It seemed so needless and futile. For working priests and for people in religion she held a sacred regard. For learned Doctors she had no use.

The squire, a young man of the sword named Thibault, pleased her better than the priests, for he was in military dress. She acknowledged the presence of the Committee with an obeisance, then went quickly to the squire and clapped him

on the shoulder, comrade fashion.

“Would that I had many men of your way of thinking, friend,” she said.

“Maid,” spoke the abbot gravely, “attend now to what we shall say. We are sent

to you from the King.”

“I know quite well that you are sent to question me,” spoke the maiden with spirit, “but of what avail is it? I know neither A nor B.”

At this the Committee began to ply her with questions.

“Why have you come to Court?” asked the abbot.

“I am come from the King of Heaven to raise the siege of Orléans, and to lead