“Mengette, if any one should hear you!” Hauviette cast a fearful glance about her. “It would go hard with you.”
“I care not who hears me,” declared Mengette with a toss of her head. “Have we not boldly told all who came to Domremy to inquire concerning her of her goodness and purity? Ay! even though they were Burgundians or English they were told the truth though some of them would fain have heard 386 otherwise. Beside, should any chance to hear me, Robert, my husband, would not let harm come to me.”
In spite of her sadness Hauviette could not repress a smile. Mengette had been married two years, and her belief in her husband’s all powerfulness had become a proverb in the village. But the maiden only remarked:
“I would that we could hear how it fares with Jeanne. It is a long trial.” She sighed.
“Yes.” Mengette sighed also, and silence fell once more between them. Long before Domremy had heard that Jeanne was held in durance, and at length that she was on trial before the learned men of the University. All feared for the result, for what chance would a peasant maid stand with such wise men?
Down the hillside path, through Greux, and on through the Bois Chesnu went the two friends, until presently they emerged into the clearing where stood the Fairy Tree in solitary grandeur. With one accord they paused under its spreading branches.
“The commissioners from Rouen were so curious about the tree,” commented Mengette, glancing up at it lovingly. “So many questions did they ask concerning it, and the Gooseberry Spring. And, Hauviette, did Isabeau tell you that they wanted to know whether Jeanne ever carried a mandrake?”
“Yes, she told me,” answered Hauviette. “As though Jeanne would do such a thing! Look, Mengette!” she broke off suddenly. “Something has happened, for the people are running all about the streets of the village.”
“And the most of them are going toward the D’Arc house,” 387 cried Mengette excitedly. “There must be news of Jeanne. Let us hurry, Hauviette.”
Quickly the intervening space between the forest and the village was passed, and Jeanne’s two friends soon entered the dooryard of the cottage. Colin de Greux left the crowd of villagers who clustered about the yard talking in low tones, and came to meet them.