“How so, holy father?” interposed one of the villagers.
“Be quiet,” replied another. “You ought to have known that Queen Isabella, out of hate and revenge against her youngest son Charles, who, after the death of his brother the Dauphin, was crown prince, concluded that treaty with England whereby the French royal family was barred from the succession and the King of England was declared successor of Charles the Sixth.”
“Oh, the disgrace! Oh, the shame!” several exclaimed.
“And this poor Dauphin,” continued the former speaker, “spent a joyless youth, in which his unnatural mother often forced him as well as his father to suffer the pangs of hunger; and yet, poor, weak, and throneless as he is, he is still ready to struggle for that throne which is his birthright as Charles the Seventh. Is this not so, holy father?”
“Certainly, certainly, God’s pity,” replied the stranger. “He should rule by his own and by divine right. The treaty of Troyes cannot prevent it. But where is the hero who will lead him to coronation at Rheims? Alas, only miraculous interposition can save him from ruin.”
“Saint Catherine,” sighed a gentle voice.
“Joan!” exclaimed Jacques, as he recognized his daughter, “what are you doing here? Go home.”
“Not yet, father Jacques,” said the stranger. “Let her stay. Do you not know that the prayers from a pure child’s heart are heard by the dear saints? And,” he added, “I have never seen eyes so full of innocence and piety as hers.”
“Ah!” replied Jacques, “of what use are the prayers of a child when the whole country lies helpless?”
“Are you also an unbeliever?” replied the stranger. “Know you not that the great God can manifest Himself in a little child?”