Victory Over Doubting Hearts
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“Yet the true Poetry––herself, like thee, Childlike; herself, like thee, a shepherd maid–– Gives thee her birthright of Divinity, And lifts unto the stars thy starry shade. Thy brows receive the aureole of her sky; The Heart created thee––thou canst not die.” Schiller, “The Maid of Orléans.” |
Jeanne stayed at her uncle’s house with Aveline until the latter was quite well. Then, there being nothing further to hinder, she asked Lassois to take her to Vaucouleurs.
“Jacques won’t like it, Jeanne,” feebly remonstrated Durand, knowing full well that notwithstanding the fact he would do as his niece wished. “He didn’t before, you know; and neither did Isabeau.”
“I must go, Uncle Durand. Though I had a hundred fathers, or a hundred mothers, though I were the daughter of a King, I still should go. It is commanded.”
Durand made no further objection, though he knew that 141 both Jacques and Isabeau would censure him for yielding to her. He saw that Jeanne was not to be turned from her purpose, so made ready for the journey. Perhaps, like Jacques, he relied on the common sense of the Sire Robert to send the girl home, for he was cheerful enough when presently they were on their way to Vaucouleurs.
“You will return with me, Jeanne? This visit is for the day only, is it not?”
“No, uncle. I shall stay in Vaucouleurs until the Sire Captain gives me men-at-arms to take me to the Dauphin.”
“And if he does not? What then?”
“He will in time, Uncle Durand. My Voices have said so,” responded the maiden confidently.