"To the fagots with the witch, and quickly, too!"
"To the flames, both the monk and the Maid!"
Led to the foot of the pyre, Joan Darc measures its height with her eyes and is unable to suppress a shudder; the executioners wave their torches in the air in order to enliven their flames; two of them precede the victim to the masonry platform within the pile of fagots; they cover it up with straw and twigs, the top layer of the heaped-up combustibles; they then hold up the iron clamps that are fastened to the stake.
"Climb up this way," says one of the executioners to Joan Darc, pointing to the stairs, "you will not come down again, witch!"
"I shall accompany you, my dear daughter, to the top of the pyre," says the monk.
Joan Darc slowly ascends the steps, greatly embarrassed in her movements by the folds of her gown, and reaches the top of the pyre. A tremendous shout breaks forth from the mob. When the noise subsides, Joan cries out aloud: "God alone inspired my actions!"
Hisses and furious imprecations drown her voice. The Cardinal of Winchester, the Bishops, judges, and captains rise simultaneously so as to obtain a better view of the execution. After placing Joan standing with her back against the stake, one of the executioners fastens her to it by the waist and neck with iron carcans; a chain holds her feet; only her hands remain free, and with them she clasps the rough wooden cross that one of the English executioners has just fashioned for her, and that she holds close to her lips. A priest in a surplice, carrying one of those large silver crucifixes usually borne at the head of processions, arrives in a hurry; he places himself at a distance opposite the pyre and holds up the crucifix as high as his arms allow him. It is the crucifix that the monk Isambard has sent for. He points it out to Joan Darc. She turns her head towards it and keeps her eyes fastened upon the image of Christ.
"Come, reverend Father," says one of the executioners to the monk Isambard, "do not stay here. The flames are about to shoot up."
"In a moment," answers the monk; "I shall follow you. I only wish to finish the prayer that I began."
"I shall make you come down faster than you would like, my reverend mumbler of prayers," observes the executioner in a low voice.