The next day, as Jeanne sat with the two knights discussing the audience of the evening before, here came the Sire de Gaucourt, former commander of Orléans. “Pucelle,” he said, bowing low before the Maid, “I come to you by order of the King, whose desire it is that you should leave this mean place and come to dwell in the Tower of Coudray, which is more proper lodging for you, and nearer to him. The friends who are with you shall accompany you, if such be your desire.”
“It is in truth my desire,” spoke the maiden quickly with an affectionate glance at Poulengy and Metz. “True and 182 faithful friends have they proven themselves. Without their aid I could not have come to the King. They believed in me even before Sire Robert did. And they shall go with me to Orléans, if they wish.”
“We do wish,” came from the knights simultaneously. “To Orléans, or to any place that promises fighting for France.”
“Would that we were now bound for Orléans,” sighed Jeanne as the four set forth for the castle.
Up the steep approach to the castle they wended their way once more. And now, being daylight, it was seen that the long mass of embattled walls, of keeps, towers, turrets, curtains, ramparts, and watch-towers were three castles separated one from the other by dyke, barrier, postern, and portcullis. Arriving on the ridge of hill Sire de Gaucourt led them past the long line of machicolated battlements of the Middle Château where the King dwelt, and across the bridge of the inner moat. A curtain of stone connected a high tower on the moat bank with another battlemented tower built into the buttressed cliff wall. There was an archway in the curtain at the end of the bridge, through which they passed to the Tower of Coudray.
Ascending a stairway they paused at its top, for here the lieutenant of the tower, Guillaume Bellier, the King’s Major Domo, waited to greet them.
“You are to lodge with my own family, Pucelle,” he said, making Jeanne a deep obeisance. “My wife comes now to bear you to your chamber for rest and refreshment.”
As he spoke a pleasant faced woman came forward from an adjoining room, and greeted the maiden warmly. She showed plainly her surprise at Jeanne’s attire, but seemed charmed by 183 her youth and beauty. Sire Bertrand gave a sigh of satisfaction as he saw the maiden depart in the lady’s company, and remarked to De Metz in a low tone:
“Glad am I to see the Maid in such good hands as those of Madame Bellier. She is a devout woman, and the two will take much pleasure in each other’s company. It hath gone to my heart to see such a mere girl without any of her own sex near her.”
“Yes; but she hath angel visitors to bring her comfort and solace, Bertrand, the like of which no other maid had ever before. I believe her in very truth to be a messenger from the blessed Saints that love France. Still, with you, I am glad that Madame Bellier hath her in her care.”