Charles’s face grew grave as he heard the words. The little masquerade planned
for the amusement of the courtiers had failed; the jest was over. Solemnly he spoke:
“How know you this, Maid?”
“My Voices have told me. I have come to lead you to your anointing, but first I must raise the siege of Orléans. This, fair Dauphin, I can do if you will but give me men-at-arms. Out of your grace, I beg you to send me at once to Orléans.”
Touched by her perfect sincerity, her intense earnestness, her good faith, the King gazed musingly at her, and then asked:
“How shall I know that you can do this, Maid? What sign can you give?”
“My sign shall be the raising of the siege of Orléans; but, gentle Dauphin, I have another sign which is to be told to you alone.”
“Then tell it to me,” he said, drawing her into a window recess out of ear shot of the courtiers.
“Gentle Dauphin, when you prayed this morning in your oratory there was a great pain in your heart.”
“True;” nodded Charles.
“And you made a prayer there. Fair Dauphin, did you tell to any one the prayer
that you made?”
“No,” he answered gravely. “I did not. ’Tis a prayer that concerns none but myself.”
Then quickly, earnestly, passionately, Jeanne spoke, addressing him familiarly as an inspired prophetess:
“Did you not pray that if you were the true heir of France, and that if justly the kingdom were yours, that God might be pleased to guard and defend you? But
that if you were not descended from the royal House of France God would grant
you escape from imprisonment or death by permitting you to go into the land of
Scotland or Spain, that you might find refuge there?”
Charles’s face grew blank with amazement.
“I did pray that, exactly,” he admitted. “In my heart alone, without pronouncing
the words. Speak on, Maiden. Is there aught from your heavenly visitors that would answer that prayer?”
“There is, gentle Dauphin. Know then, to ease thy heart, that I tell thee from Messire, that thou art the true heir of France, and son of the King.”
She made the strange statement so authoritatively, so impressively that the monarch’s countenance grew radiant. Those watching the pair wondered at the change, but none knew until long afterward what it was that the maiden had told him. Now he took Jeanne’s hand and bowed over it.
“I believe in you, Maid,” he said. “Though all should doubt yet do I believe. You shall have your men-at-arms, and go to Orléans.”
“Now God be praised,” exclaimed the maiden joyfully. “May he send you long
life, oh fair and gentle Dauphin. Give me the men soon, I pray you, that I may be about my work.”
“You shall have your wish,” he said gently; and with this he led her back to the gaping courtiers.
CHAPTER XVII
THE IMPOSSIBLE HAPPENS
“To pray, we do not say with the lips, but to pray with
the whole sincerity of the heart, is to win an inexhaustible
source of moral strength. This we say simply from the
point of view of a man of science who only concerns himself
with the effects of a fact, and only considers truths
of observation and experience. ”
M. SIMÉON LUCE. “Jeanne d’Arc à Domremy. ”
The next day, as Jeanne sat with the two knights discussing the audience of the evening before, here came the Sire de Gaucourt, former commander of Orléans.
“Pucelle,” he said, bowing low before the Maid, “I come to you by order of the
King, whose desire it is that you should leave this mean place and come to dwell in the Tower of Coudray, which is more proper lodging for you, and nearer to him. The friends who are with you shall accompany you, if such be your desire.”
“It is in truth my desire,” spoke the maiden quickly with an affectionate glance at Poulengy and Metz. “True and faithful friends have they proven themselv 18e
