“God give you good life, gentle Dauphin,” she said.
“But it is not I that am the King,” said he with smiling lips. “Yonder he sits upon the throne.”
“In God’s name, gentle Dauphin, say not so,” she said. “It is you and no other.” Then rising from her knees she continued: “Fair Dauphin, I am Jeanne the Maid. I am sent to you by the King of Heaven to tell you that you shall be anointed and crowned at Reims, and shall be lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who is King of France.”
Charles’s face grew grave as he heard the words. The little masquerade planned for the amusement of the courtiers had failed; the jest was over. Solemnly he spoke:
“How know you this, Maid?”
“My Voices have told me. I have come to lead you to your anointing, but first I must raise the siege of Orléans. This, fair Dauphin, I can do if you will but give me men-at-arms. Out of your grace, I beg you to send me at once to Orléans.”
Touched by her perfect sincerity, her intense earnestness, her good faith, the King gazed musingly at her, and then asked:
“How shall I know that you can do this, Maid? What sign can you give?”
“My sign shall be the raising of the siege of Orléans; but, gentle Dauphin, I have another sign which is to be told to you alone.”