“Are you the Bastard of Orleans?”
“I am,” he said, “and right glad of your coming.”
“Was it you who gave counsel that I should come by this bank, and not by the other side, and so straight against Talbot and the English?”
She spoke as a master to a faulty groom, fierce and high, and to hear her was marvel.
“I, and wiser men than I, gave that counsel,” said he, “deeming this course the surer.”
“Nom Dieu!” she cried. “The council of Messire is safer and wiser than yours.” She pointed to the rude stream, running rough and strong, a great gale following with it, so that no sailing-boats might come from the town. “You thought to beguile me, and are yourselves beguiled, for I bring you better succour than ever came to knight or town—the help of the King of Heaven.”
Then, even as she spoke, and as by miracle, that fierce wind went right about, and blew straight up the stream, and the sails of the vessels filled.
“This is the work of our Lord,” said the Bastard of Orleans, crossing himself: and the anger passed from the eyes of the Maid.
Then he and Nicole de Giresme prayed her to pass the stream with them, and to let her host march back to Blois and so come to Orleans, crossing by the bridge of Blois. To this she said nay, that she could not leave her men out of her sight, lest they fell to sin again, and all her pains were lost. But, with many prayers, her confessor Pasquerel joining in them, she was brought to consent. So the host, with priests and banners, must set forth again to Blois, while the Maid, and we that were of her company, crossed the river in boats, and so rode towards the town. On this way (the same is a road of the old Romans) the English held a strong fort, called St. Loup, and well might they have sallied forth against us. But the people of Orleans, who ever bore themselves more hardily than any townsfolk whom I have known, made an onfall against St. Loup, that the English within might not sally out against us, where was fierce fighting, and they took a standard from the English.
So, at nightfall, the Maid, with the Bastard and other captains at her side, rode into the town, all the people welcoming her with torches in hand, shouting Noël! as to a king, throwing flowers before her horse’s feet, and pressing to touch her, or even the harness of her horse, which leaped and plunged, for the fire of a torch caught the fringe of her banner. Lightly she spurred and turned him, and lightly she caught at the flame with her hand and quenched it, while all men marvelled at her grace and goodly bearing.