“Come on, little friend,” said the innkeeper to Jean, as he went up some stairs. “I have a nice place for seeing. I am so glad you did not stop with that miserable Loup—but, holy Ursula! are you ill? Your hand is as cold as ice.”
“I am not feeling very well,” replied Jean, “and I would rather go back again.”
“What! You don’t mean to leave just as the spectacle begins! I will get a little potion for you which my cousin, the good woman—but, holy Ursula! the drums are already rattling. The judges are mounting the great tribunal. Look, there is his reverence. He has the parchment in his hand which contains the sentence. Pay attention. He will read it soon.”
Jean did not hear a word. His eyes were fixed upon a distant spot whence, accompanied by the roll of drums and the shouts of the multitude, a procession was slowly making its way through the crowd.
“Do you see the cart?” said the innkeeper. “Do you see the witch in it? She is sitting by the side of Father Martin. That holy man has been praying by her side all night that the evil spirit may forsake her. Holy Ursula! See how they have bound her! Her hands are fastened, and her feet are in iron rings with a chain between.”
The cart soon reached the square. Joan was led up to the second platform by Father Martin. The Bishop of Beauvais read the sentence amid the profound silence of the multitude:
“In the name of God, Amen.
“We, the Bishop of Beauvais, Master and Vicar of the Inquisition, pronounce sentence. As Joan, commonly called ‘the Maiden,’ has relapsed into heresy and apostasy, she is excommunicated, and herewith given over to the secular power for the infliction of the punishment provided for the heretic.”
Some would have applauded, but they found no encouragement, for Joan had fallen upon her knees and was praying, and when she raised her head her face was as the face of an angel. Many began to realize that she was not a criminal, and loud sobs, indicating the growing change of feeling, were heard here and there. Observing this, the judges hastened their work. An attendant approached her and placed a pointed cap on her head with the words, “Heretic, relapser, apostate, idolatress,” written upon it. He then hurried her down the steps and led her to the pile, at the foot of which the executioner was in waiting.
“Leave me not, Father Martin,” she implored, as the executioner seized her and dragged her up to the platform. The father followed and remained with her as the executioner bound her to the stake and then turned to descend.