"Poictiers?"
"No."
"Then I know what it must be," exclaimed Mary; "one of the French leaders was killed early in the day, after which they made no more resistance, and the English became victorious. Now, Annie, it is your turn."
Annie then described a parliament, where grave men were listening to a gentleman who held in his arms a little baby, who plays with the royal ball; he also holds papers sealed with large seals.
"Did not the baby cry when he saw all those gentlemen?" asked Alfred.
"He does not cry in my picture," answered Annie; "he looks very good, and almost as if he were listening to what was being said around him."
This subject was guessed, and Mrs. Arabin proceeded to describe "a besieged town, surrounded by the besiegers; at the head of whom, mounted on a charger, is a young woman apparently about twenty-seven years of age. Look well in her face: you see no want of courage there, yet no masculine coarseness—a calm dignity pervades her countenance. She wears a helmet, a sword is by her side, and she carries a white standard on which is depicted the Virgin Mary. But I need not go on, for I see by your faces that you have already guessed my heroine. When you are a little more advanced in German, Edward, you must read Schiller's beautiful play founded on this history."
"Was she not burnt as a witch?" enquired Mary.
"That is a disputed point," answered her aunt; "some writers say this was her fate at Rouen, but others state that she returned to her native village, Domrenci, and married."
"I hope she did," added Emily; "but do you think, mama, there are such people as witches?"