And gazing into the bright, eager young face, flushed with courage and glowing with celestial ardor the King was thrilled, and longed to do kingly deeds and to be worthy of the blood of Louis, his saintly ancestor. After the dinner the four went to the meadows by the river, where Jeanne guided her horse and wielded her lance with so much skill that both the King and the Duke marvelled.
“’Tis but an indifferent steed you ride, Pucelle,” spoke Alençon, for Jeanne was still using the horse that De Baudricourt had bought for her. “I will send you another that shall bear you more worthily.”
The very next day he presented her with a magnificent black charger which Jeanne rode thereafter. It was the beginning of a warm friendship between the two. He became one of the maiden’s most enthusiastic supporters, and Jeanne grew fond of him not only because he was son-in-law to the Duke of Orléans, but because the English had done him wrong, and he had a good will to fight. Jeanne measured men by that standard. She had a wholesome, hearty contempt for men who skulked at Court and spent their time in idle pleasure while France lay under the heel of the invader. Alençon had but just returned to his home after being held captive by the English for three years. It was told of him that his captors had proposed to give him back his liberty and his goods if he would join their party, but he rejected the offer. He was young like her, and Jeanne thought that like her he must be sincere and noble.
In spite of her increasing influence over churchmen, and captains, and people, the King still wavered, influenced by the Royal Council and the favorite. La Trémouille, though indifferent to Jeanne, because he had not yet come to dread her power and to intrigue against her as he did a few months later, was disinclined to action, and had no intention of allowing Charles to shake off his indolence. So there were further delays while the King’s confessor and others examined the maiden daily. Though she was aware that these men questioned her by orders from the King, Jeanne did not talk freely, but answered discreetly concerning her mission.
“In God’s name, my fair duke, why do they ask so many questions instead of setting me about my work?” she asked piteously of Alençon one day after a visit from some of the bishops.
“Perchance ’tis natural for them to doubt,” replied the duke consolingly. “You will have to be patient, Jeanne, though there is much to try you in delay.”
“Patient, patient!” ejaculated Jeanne, who was eating her heart out with the desire to engage the enemy immediately at Orléans.
“Can Orléans hold out forever? Why do they not take Messire’s word as it comes to them? Daily do I pray to be delivered from these churchmen.”
Alençon laughed, but checked his mirth quickly at sight of the tears that were in Jeanne’s eyes.