voices, which directed her to attend church faithfully and perform all her duties. She was known to all the villagers in her pious and charitable acts, and her youthful friend Haumette assured her companions that Joan was a good, simple girl, and always talked of God and the angels. She entered maidenhood, pure and beautiful, the impress of her unsullied thoughts stamped upon her pale calm face, full of childish innocence, yet adorning a mind of rare sense and shrewdness.

Both her mother and father reproved her firm belief in the mission that had been given her, and, with alarm, found her already practising military exercises, mounted upon a horse and tilting her lance against trees, as if in knightly combat. Her father declared that, rather than see his daughter among men-at-arms, he would drown her with his own hands. Hoping to divert her from her wild, unwomanly schemes, her parents used their authority to secure her marriage. A young man declared she had promised him her hand in childhood, and, to enforce his claims, cited her before the ecclesiastical Judge of Toul. This they thought would frighten her into acceptance, since, with her timidity and modesty that suffused her face with blushes at a word from a stranger, she could never summon courage to defend herself. To their surprise, she appeared in court, and declared the falsity of the charge.

A visit from an uncle at length secured an opportunity for her to execute her purpose. He was convinced of her divine mission, and promised to take her to Robert de Baudricourt, captain of Vaucouleurs, to whom St. Michael had directed her for aid. Bidding

farewell to her beloved home, her cherished mother, and dear companion Haumette, she journeyed with her uncle to Vaucouleurs, in her simple peasant's costume, a coarse red dress and little close white cap. They travelled nearly four leagues along the banks of the Meuse, and traversed the valley spread with verdant meadows, enamelled with flowers from which the town derived its name, and at the extremity of which it lay in the form of an amphitheatre. They arrived in the busy streets, where all was new, stirring life, to the young girl who had never before wandered beyond the hills that encircled her home. They sought the dwelling of an hospitable wheelwright, whose wife was captivated with the gentleness and beauty of the strangely commissioned maiden.

Joan's uncle had previously obtained an interview with Baudricourt, giving an account of her and asking the aid she desired, to which the blunt soldier replied, "Give her a good whipping and take her back to her father." Nothing daunted by this scorn of her pretensions, she succeeded in obtaining admittance to the castle, and soon stood in the presence of the hardy captain. Speaking in a firm tone, she told him "she came from her Lord, to succor the king, and that she would raise the siege of Orleans, and bring Charles to Rheims to be crowned." The captain, struck with her appearance and astonished at her words, believed her possessed with a devil, and sent immediately for the curé. Upon entering her presence, the frightened priest exhibited his stole or scarf, and commanded the evil spirits to depart, if they guided her. She simply smiled upon him,

and conversed with so much honesty and unaffected simplicity, that the curé himself was bewildered. The news that the prophecy concerning a Pucelle of the marches of Lorraine who was to save the realm, was about to be accomplished, and that the Maid had actually appeared, threw all Vaucouleurs in commotion. Crowds hastened to see her and hear her words, and all were equally vehement in their admiration, and confident of her saintly commission. Several of the nobility were won over to her cause, and promised to conduct her to the king, for she assured them that "no one in the world, nor kings, nor dukes, nor daughter of the King of Scotland, could recover France but herself, and that it was her Lord's will she should do it," urging them to hasten, for she must be at Orleans before Mid-Lent.

Baudricourt sent messengers to the king, to obtain his consent to an interview with Joan. Orleans being closely besieged, the inhabitants not able to defend it much longer, and Charles's crown being dependent on the preservation of this last stronghold, he was willing to grasp any aid, however supernatural, if it would but serve his purpose. Receiving his orders for her advance, she set out from Vaucouleurs, equipped in man's attire, mounted upon a fiery black charger, the gift of the admiring inhabitants, and armed with a sword bestowed by Baudricourt. At her departure, a message of entreaty, threats and commands came from her parents, who were frantic with the thought of trusting their youngest and delicate daughter to all the horrors and exposures of war. But Joan, still firm in her

resolves, begged their forgiveness, and continued her journey with an escort of three knights.

The district that lay between Vaucouleurs and Chinon, where Charles held his court, was overrun with men-at-arms of both parties, making the journey extremely perilous; but Joan fearlessly traversed it, cheering her companions, who regretted the undertaking and began to fear that their charge was a witch. or sorceress. She continued to face danger with the utmost tranquillity, and insisted upon sojourning at every little town to hear mass or to repeat her prayers in the churches. At Fierbois she remained a long time, kneeling before the altar in St. Catherine's cathedral, in spite of the entreaties of her impatient escort. After escaping an ambuscade that had been laid for her, they arrived safely at Chinon. Here in a strong castle, the ruins of which still ornamented the town, Charles and his courtiers were assembled. A rich suite of apartments was occupied by his queen, Mary of Anjou, and her ladies of honor, among whom was Agnes Sorrel, known by the appellation of "Fairest of the Fair," and "Lady of Beauty," and celebrated as much for her gaiety of temper, entertaining conversation and grace of manner, as for her beauty. The gentle, submissive queen had consented to live amicably with this beautiful woman, who shared the affections of the king and had a powerful influence over him. Seeing the hopeless condition of Orleans, he would have fled to the remote province of Dauphiny and abandoned his crown, but for the spirited Agnes and the prudent, sensible queen, both of whom warned

him that his followers would forsake him if he betrayed his despair of success by flight.

The news of the coming of Joan, excited hope, fear, and curiosity in the occupants of the castle. Uncertain whether to receive her, and fearing lest he should place himself in the power of an evil spirit, Charles called a council of warriors, priests, and bishops, to consider the dangers or advantages of accepting one who might be a sorceress, for their leader. As for trusting the events of war to a woman, such an objection was not raised, since it was a common occurrence for the fair sex to engage in battle, and in those very years, "the Bohemian women fought like men in the wars of the Hussites." The council, however, debated for two days the expediency of even admitting her to the king's presence, but it was finally decided that, if she could prove the "divinity of her mission" by selecting the king from among his courtiers, she should receive the equipment she desired, and accompany such forces as could be raised, to Orleans.

In the meantime, Joan was conducted to the queen's apartments, where the two friendly rivals received her with equal interest and curiosity. The rustic peasant girl exhibited no wonder as she entered the luxurious abode of the queen, where, in the soft shade of purple hangings, richly worked with golden fleur-de-lis, sat the attendants, industriously engaged with their embroidery frames, while the queen, with fur-bordered robes, occupied a slightly raised platform, covered with tapestry. Her face was expressive and gentle, with a shade of subdued sadness resting upon it, and in her