After leaving Gien there was little danger, and at last they safely reached Chinon and put up at an inn. Here, as at Gien, the news of Joan’s arrival spread rapidly, and attracted a great crowd. To satisfy the universal curiosity, she appeared on the balcony and was welcomed with enthusiastic shouts. Her knightly companions promptly waited upon the Dauphin; but they found him greatly discouraged and in a despondent mood because of the news that the Englishman, John Falstaff, had repulsed the French, who tried to prevent him from taking supplies of herring to his countrymen before Orleans. The Dauphin’s disappointment over the “herrings day” defeat, however, would have been short-lived had he not at the same time been overtaken by a calamity which seemed to him even worse, namely, his utter lack of money and the consequent emptiness of his kitchen and cellar. In such a mood Joan’s companions found him. At first he listened to them with indifference and a contemptuous smile, but when they told him the people had recognized the Maiden as a saint, and welcomed her as the rescuer of France, it occurred to him she might be instrumental in relieving his necessitous condition. At last he ordered that she should be admitted. To test the prophetic gift ascribed to her, he received her standing among the nobles of his court, while another person sat on the throne.

Joan recognized him at once, however, and advancing to him, knelt, and greeted him with these words: “God grant you a long and happy life, Dauphin.”[18]

“You are mistaken,” he replied. “Yonder is the King,” pointing to the person on the throne.

“Noble prince,” she answered, “you cannot deceive me. You are the Dauphin.” A murmur of astonishment ran through the hall.

“Sire,” she continued, “if we can be alone I will tell you something that will remove all doubt as to my mission.”[19]

The Dauphin conducted her to the adjacent oratory, and there, according to the tradition, she revealed things to him which he was certain none could know but God and himself. He was so sure of this that at the close of the interview he exclaimed: “I am convinced of your divine commission, but my councillors must also be convinced.”

“Very well, sire,” she replied. “Summon the three most learned and experienced to meet me in the morning, and I will give them a sign.” Her wish was gratified. The three selected were the Archbishop of Rheims, Charles of Bourbon, and De la Tremouille, the King’s minister. They first required her to give her history, and then they asked for the sign. Joan went back to the oratory. Then, according to tradition, the heavenly ones appeared, and with them an angel in long white raiment. The latter carried a brilliant crown and slowly advanced into the audience-room.

“Sire,” said the angel, “trust this maiden whom Heaven sends to you. Give her at once as many soldiers as you can raise. As a sign that you shall be crowned at Rheims, Heaven sends you this token.” Thereupon the angel handed the crown to the Archbishop, went out as he had entered, and disappeared through the ceiling of the oratory. So says the tradition.

The three councillors were not yet fully satisfied, however. They suggested that Joan should be examined by the learned theologians of the University of Poitiers.[20] When they also asked her for a sign, she replied: “Give me soldiers and you shall have signs enough.” They finally reported that she was trustworthy, and that the King ought to accept her service. The Dauphin’s council promptly decided to raise as many troops as possible, place the Maiden in command of them, and send her with a convoy of supplies to Orleans. In these few days popular sentiment had changed rapidly, cheerful self-sacrifice and enthusiastic eagerness for action took the place of discouragement and dissension. Knights and their men at arms offered their services, and wealthy burghers sacrificed their treasures for the cause of the country. The Dauphin at last was also in a cheerful frame of mind, for his treasury was filling up and he could once more take some pleasure in living. He was also in a position now to be of service to the Maiden. He presented her with a general’s outfit,—a master of horse, two pages, two heralds, and a chaplain.

About this time the Duc d’Alençon[21] returned from English captivity. He noticed with great delight that every one was eager to follow the Maiden into battle. He immediately mortgaged his property, purchased war equipment, and accepted the duty of preparing the convoy of supplies. Joan met with an affectionate welcome from his wife, who had come to Blois, where the preparations were going on.