"Gentle Dauphin," she said to him one day, "why do you not believe me? I say unto you that God hath compassion on you, your kingdom, and your people; St. Louis and Charlemagne are kneeling before Him, making prayer for you, and I will say unto you, so please you, a thing which will give you to understand that you ought to believe me."[33]
One day, after mass, Charles led her into a chamber apart, where were only La Trémoïlle and one other. He was in one of his dark moods, his mind full of doubts and fears. Was he after all the rightful heir? In his closet that morning, he had prayed that if the kingdom were justly his, God might be pleased to defend it for him; if not, that he might find refuge in Scotland or in Spain. Joan, we may fancy, read all this in his face that day in the castle chamber. Taking him aside, she spoke long and earnestly.
"What she said to him there is none who knows," wrote Alain Chartier the poet soon after, "but it is quite certain that he was all radiant with joy thereat as at a revelation from the Holy Spirit."
Well he might be! on the authority of her Voices, "on behalf of her Lord," the Maid declared him "true heir of France, and son of the king." From that moment we may perhaps date the belief of Charles in her mission.
One other, I said, besides Charles and La Trémoïlle, was present at the interview. This was the young Duke of Alençon, son-in-law of Charles of Orleans. He was then twenty years of age, as gallant and careless a lad as might be. At fifteen he had been taken prisoner in battle: was ransomed two years later, spite of his refusal to acknowledge Henry VI. King of France; had since then been living on his estate, amusing himself and taking little thought of the distracted country. He was shooting quails one day when word came of a mysterious Maid who had appeared before the King, claiming to be sent by God to drive out the English, and raise the siege of Orleans. Here, for once, was something interesting in these tiresome squabbles of Burgundian and Armagnac; something, it might be, more exciting than quail-shooting. He took horse and rode to Chinon; sought his cousin Charles, and found him deep in talk with the Maid herself.
"Who is this?" asked Joan.
"It is the Duke of Alençon," replied the Dauphin.
She turned to Alençon with her own simple grace.
"You are very welcome," she said. "The more princes of the blood that are here together, the better."