“I did not enquire about it.”

“Have you ever seen or known Catherine de La Rochelle?”

“Yes, at Jargeau and at Montfaucon in Berry.”

“Did not Catherine shew you a lady, robed in white, who, she said, sometimes appeared to her?”

“No.”

“What did this Catherine say to you?”

“That a white lady came to her, dressed in cloth-of-gold, who told her to go through the good cities with heralds and trumpets which the King would give to her, and proclaim that any one who had gold, silver, or any concealed treasure should bring it immediately: that those who did not do so, and who had anything hidden, she would know, and would be able to discover the treasure. With these treasures, she told me, she would pay my men-at-arms. I told Catherine that she should return to her husband, look after her home, and bring up her children. And in order to have some certainty as to her mission, I spoke of it, either to Saint Catherine or to Saint Margaret, who told me that the mission of this Catherine was mere folly and nothing else. I wrote to the King as to what he should do about it; and, when I afterwards went to him, I told him that this mission of Catherine was only folly and nothing more. Nevertheless, Brother Richard wished to set her to work; therefore were they both displeased with me,—Brother Richard and she.”

“Did you never speak with the said Catherine on the project of going to La Charité-sur-Loire?”

“She did not advise me to go there: it was too cold, and she would not go. She told me she wished to visit the Duke of Burgundy in order to make peace. I told her it seemed to me that peace would be found only at the end of the lance. I asked her if this white lady who appeared to her came to her every night? and I said that, to see her, I would sleep one night with her in the same bed. I went to bed; I watched till midnight; I saw nothing, and then went to sleep. When morning came, I asked her if the White Lady had come. ‘Yes, Jeanne,’ she answered me, ‘while you were asleep she came; and I could not awaken you.’ Then I asked her if she would come again the following night. ‘Yes,’ she told me. For this reason I slept by day that I might be able to watch the night following. I went to bed with Catherine; watched all the night following: but saw nothing, although I asked her often, ‘Will she never come?’ and she always answered me, ‘Yes, in a moment.’”

“What did you do in the trenches of La Charité?”[[57]]