“As to the first point, the Maiden herself is a sufficient illustration. Do not these people recognize a wonder in this change of wind, while you see nothing at all extraordinary in it? As to the other point there are a thousand illustrations. The sky with its stars, the flowers of the field, the worm in the dust,—all these are wonders of creation which the multitude scarcely notices, but which are marvellous to the observant thinker.”
“And this Maiden?”
“She is a wonder in both ways, and therein lies her extraordinary power. She is believed to be a prophetess who has direct communication with Heaven. The people regard her as an actually divine wonder, because of her purity of heart, her celestial confidence, her unsullied patriotism, and her spiritual illumination. Indeed, noble sir, the Maiden is a wonderful gift of Heaven to stricken France.”
“Then you also believe in her success apart from her divine commission?”
“I do not dispute her divine commission. She is executing it because the divine voice in her own heart has charged her with that duty. Do I believe in her success? Look at these people! How their eyes are fixed upon this Maiden! At her command of ‘forward’ they would plunge into the Loire and follow her, believing that its waters would bear them up. Will you not yourself, noble sir, although you do not believe in her divine commission, gladly draw your sword when the lily banner waves before you? If the spirit which Joan has roused in our little band is animating all France, how can we do otherwise than expect success?”
“You are right, my young friend,” said La Hire, extending his hand. “I thank your gallant father in his grave for the training he gave you. Yes, yes, it must be so,—when religious or political enthusiasms fire a people, great results always follow. In this case it is a joint enthusiasm. The victory will be ours, and we shall thank the Maiden for it. I will not again grieve her with my prayers. When it is prayer time I will go so far off that she cannot hear me. But one thing more, Jean. Have you heard anything about Marie?”
“Alas! noble sir, I have not. As you well know, I have not ceased making inquiries, but as in your case, the turmoil of war has prevented me from obtaining personal information.”
“Yes, yes, I know. I cannot tell you how that poor child’s situation troubles me. I have waited from week to week for an opportunity to speak a few words to this lord of Luxemburg and his bishop”—and his grip of his sword indicated what kind of words he had in mind. “But let us hope,” he resumed, “that the Maiden whom we serve may open the way to Marie’s release. First, we must send the English to the devil. After that nothing shall prevent me from finding Marie, and”—casting a significant glance at Jean—“I know who will stand by me.”
“To the end of the world, noble sir,” cried the youth, his flashing eyes showing that the words came from his heart.
“Good, good, I am sure of it; but it is time that we were off.” He pointed to the last of the vessels, which was held for the troops. Soon they came to the line of the English intrenchments, which stretched around the city.