On the evening of her arrival she supped on a few slices of bread dipped in wine and water. She begged that her host's daughter Charlotte, a child of ten years, might share her couch. Every morning, crossing the garden to the neighboring church, she assisted at mass, prayed for the relief of the city, and received with tears the holy communion.
On Tuesday, May 3rd, a solemn procession, led by the Maid, went to the cathedral to pray for the deliverance of the city. Here she was met by a priest, "Dr. John of Mascon, a very wise man," who looked at her in pity and in wonder.
"My child," he asked, "are you come hither to raise the siege?"
"In God's name, yes, my father!"
The good father shook his head sadly.
"My child, they are strong, and strongly fenced; it would be a mighty feat of arms to dislodge them."
"To the power of God," replied Joan, "nothing is impossible!"
This was her word, on this and on all days.
"Throughout the city," says the old chronicle, "she rendered honour to no one else!" The learned Doctor bowed his head, and from that moment accepted her as a messenger of God.