For this I was born.”
Sire Robert also was present, and as he gazed at the bright face of the maiden his grim old heart was touched.
“Swear,” he said, making Jean de Metz kneel before him. “Swear that you will
deliver this maiden whom I have confided to your care safely and surely to the
King.”
And De Metz answered solemnly:
“I swear.”
And so from each and every man the Governor took the oath. Then belting his
own sword about the girl’s slender waist, he said:
“Go! and come of it what may.”
And off into the mists that enveloped the meadows of the Meuse rode the little
company down the road into France.
[6]
“Madame Margaret did not come to France until seven years later. The six thousand men never did come. Jeanne did.”––Andrew Lang.
[7]
Pucelle––virgin, maid.
CHAPTER XV
STARTING THE GREAT ADVENTURE
“The character of Joan of Arc is unique. It can be
measured by the standards of all times without misgiving
or apprehension as to the result. Judged by any of them,
judged by all of them, it is still flawless, it is still ideally
perfect; it still occupies the loftiest place possible to
human attainment, a loftier one than has been reached
by any other mere mortal. ”
MARK TWAIN. Preface––“Personal Recollections
of Joan of Arc. ”
And so began this strange ride; the strangest that was ever made. There were a
thousand perils to be encountered: great rivers to be crossed; great forests infested by wolves to be traversed; trackless spaces of a country, half of which was hostile––full of every danger of war, to be covered.
Jeanne had been told many times of the risks of the journey; but, happy in the knowledge that she was at last on her way to the Dauphin, no peril, no danger seemed formidable. She had no fear of marauding bands, nor did she feel anxiety concerning the conduct of her companions. A great peace filled her soul. She h
15 a
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begun her work. How it was all to end for her she neither foresaw nor asked; she only knew what she had to do. So light hearted did she appear that Bertrand de
Poulengy wondered at it. Jeanne noticed him regarding her curiously.
“What is it, messire?” she asked.
“It will be a hard, tiresome ride, Pucelle.”
“I know, messire.”
“To sit in the saddle long hours is most fatiguing. Have you been accustomed to
riding?”
“No, messire. I never rode at all until I came to Vaucouleurs.”
