But there was no answering smile on the face of their father. According to his belief there was but one interpretation to be put upon such a dream. Many women rode with men-at-arms, but they were not good women. So now, bringing his fist down upon the table with a resounding thwack, he roared:
“Rather than have such a thing happen, I would have you boys drown her in the river. And if you would not do it, I would do it myself.”
Jeanne turned pale. Instantly it was borne in upon her that her father must not know of her mission. She knew that if now she were to tell of the wonderful task that had been assigned to her she would not be believed, but that he would think ill of her.
At this juncture her mother spoke, chidingly:
“How you talk, Jacques. What a pother to make over a dream. Come now! eat your breakfast, and think no more of it.”
But Jacques only reiterated his words fiercely:
“I would drown her rather than have a daughter of mine among soldiers.”
Jeanne glanced at her brothers, but their countenances were grave enough now, for they comprehended their father’s meaning. A sudden sense of aloofness, of being no longer part and parcel of her family, smote her. The tears came and overflowed her cheeks, for she was but a girl after all. To hide her grief she rose hastily, and ran to her own little room.