She had fasted since dawn, but she was too tired to eat the alose, nor did she bring the promised "goddam" to share it with her. The goddams were all dead save a few, who were jealously guarded for ransom. She supped on a few bits of bread dipped in weak wine and water, and a surgeon came and dressed her wound.
All night, we are told, the joy bells rang through the rescued city, while the good Maid slept with the peace of Heaven in her heart.
It was not a long sleep. At daybreak came tidings that the English had issued from their tents and arrayed themselves in order of battle.
Instantly Joan arose and dressed, putting on a light coat of chain mail, as her wounded shoulder could not bear the weight of the heavy plate armor. She rode out with Dunois and the rest, and the French order of battle was formed, fronting the English; so the two armies remained for the space of an hour. The French, full of the strong wine of yesterday's victory, were eager to attack; but Joan held them back. "If they attack us," she said, "fight bravely and we shall conquer them; but do not begin the battle!"
Then she did a strange thing. She sent for a priest, and bade him celebrate mass in front of the army; and that done, to celebrate it yet again. Both services "she and all the soldiers heard with great devotion."
"Now," said the Maid, "look well, and tell me; are their faces set toward us?"
"No!" was the reply. "They have turned their backs on us, and their faces are set toward Meung."
"In God's name, they are gone!" said Joan. "Let them go, and let us go and praise God, and follow them no farther, since this is Sunday."
"Whereupon," says the chronicle, "the Maid with the other lords and soldiers returned to Orleans with great joy, to the great triumph of all the clergy and people, who with one accord returned to our Lord humble thanks and praises well deserved for the victory he had given them over the English, the ancient enemies of this realm."[43]