“Jeanne D’Arc says she is to lead the Dauphin to his anointing.”
It was a trying time. Jeanne often shed tears over the jeers and taunts, but she wept in secret. Outwardly serene she submitted meekly to the espionage of her own people, and to the gibes of her neighbors. Had it not been for the consolation received from “Her Voices,” life would have been unendurable.
“Be patient, Daughter of God,” they said. “It will not be long. All will be well. Thy time will come soon.”
“Your father grieves over you, Jeanne,” spoke Isabeau one day after Jacques, stung beyond endurance by some remark he had heard against his daughter, was taking her severely to task. “He is cut to the heart that you should have gone to Vaucouleurs, and by your talk of the Dauphin. You must not be angry with him.”
“I am not, mother,” said the maiden sadly. “I know that he does not understand. Nor do you; but you will––in time.” She loved her parents dearly, and excused their rigorousness because she knew that they did not believe in her inspiration. Often had she tried to explain matters, but they would not listen.
“We understand only too well, little one,” responded Isabeau. “Jacques fears that you are bent upon seeking Sire Robert again. I have told him that you will not.” She gave Jeanne a questioning glance as she finished speaking.
“I must, mother. It is commanded.”
“Jeanne, give o’er such talk,” exclaimed her mother sharply. “Where did you get such notions? The neighbors say that you 114 got your affliction at l’Arbre-des-Fées. That you have been seen there alone, bewreathing the tree with garlands, and that while so doing you met a wicked fairy who was your fate. Is it true?”
“If there be fairies, mother, I have never seen them, and not in years have I carried wreaths to l’Arbre-des-Fées. I used to go there on Laetare Sunday with the boys and girls, but I go no longer. As to flowers, mother; I carry them only to the altar of Our Lady of Belmont, or offer them here to the Saints.”
“There is naught but good in that, so what makes the people talk so?” ejaculated the mother fretfully. “If you would but give up your talk of helping the Dauphin this tittle-tattle might be stopped. As it is, Jacques is distressed that you are so obdurate. He spoke to the Curé about exorcising you for the evil spirit.”