"Speak," he replied, "and if you speak reasonably and profitably, we will gladly believe you."
"Will you believe me?" she said again.
"Yes," repeated Charles, "according to what you say."
That cold answer might well have checked her, but she spoke on:
"Gracious King of France, if you will remain before your city of Troyes, it shall be yours within three days by force or by love—doubt it not."
"We would wait six, if we could be sure of having it," said the Archbishop.
"Doubt not," she insisted, "you shall have it to-morrow."
It was then evening, but she at once mounted her horse and began preparations for an assault. Her energy cheered the soldiers, who were weary of inaction. They dragged the cannons into position, and brought bundles of wood, doors, furniture, everything they could lay hands on, to fill up the fosse. They worked far into the night—leaders, pages, men-at-arms alike—Joan directing them "better than two of the best captains could have done."
Through that night there was great excitement within Troyes. The people had heard of Orleans and Jargeau; they could see and hear Joan's preparations. At last they asked loudly why they, French by birth, should risk their city and their lives for England. A council was held, and the heads of the garrison and the city agreed to surrender. Early next morning, just as Joan was giving the signal for the assault, the city gates were opened.
The next day, Sunday, the King entered the town in state, attended by Joan and his nobles.