ginations saw the
heavenly hosts, led by Michael, fighting on the French side. Attempting
a hurried evacuation, the English captain, Glasdale, was precipitated
into the Loire from a frail bridge on which he was crossing; the fort
was taken, and the remnant of its defenders put to the sword.

[Illustration 6:
JEANNE D'ARC.
After the painting by Jean J. Scherrer.
Orleans went mad with joy at the advent of its heaven-sent deliverer. As
she rode through the streets the crowds blocked her way, and eager
admirers rudely jostled each other in the struggle but to touch the
horse that bore her. With sweet kindliness, she thanked them, losing
none of her humility, and exhorting them to thank not her, but God and
the dauphin. For that night and the rest of her stay in Orleans she was
lodged with the wife of the treasurer of Charles d'Orleans, and slept
with one of the daughters of the house. Sturdy and healthy as she was,
the unaccustomed rough life of the camp, sleeping with her armor on and
none but men about her, had occasioned her great fatigue.]

The last of the English defences south of the Loire was destroyed, and
the next day, May 8, 1429, Talbot and Suffolk led their army in retreat.
As it was Sunday, Jeanne let them depart unmolested, but ere the last of
the English columns had disappeared an altar was raised in the plain and
the holy maid was joined by her army and by the people of Orleans in a
Mass to celebrate their deliverance.

It had taken nine days only for this courageous and resolute girl to
undo months of work on the part of the English. Her steadfast faith in
herself, her refusal to be turned aside from her duty, had worked the
miracle; and for it all she thanked God, and prayed for support in what
yet remained to do. To France, indeed, she seemed a miracle herself; and
learned doctors of the Church undertook to prove, forsooth, that what
she had done was of God, not of the devil, while Frenchmen who had held
aloof from the despised and discredited heir of France began to ask
themselves whether, after all, he were not the lawful ruler of France,
since God had sent this inspired leader of his armies.

Sweet is the savor of triumph; to all who are touched with ambition the
mere joy of victory, with the homage of men and the flattery that follow
in the train of victory, is so sweet that in vainglory they forget what
yet remains to be done. But in Jeanne there was no ambition; she
rejoiced and gave thanks to