a stair." "Do they
think themselves immortal?" the panic-stricken English cried among
themselves--panic-stricken not by their old enemies, but by the white
figure at the foot of the wall. Was she a witch, as had been thought?
was not she indeed the messenger of God? The dazzling rays that shot
from her armour seemed like butterflies, like doves, like angels
floating about her head. They had thought her dead, yet here she stood
again without a sign of injury; or was it Michael himself, the great
archangel whom she resembled do much? Arrows flew round her on every
side but never touched her. She struck no blow, but the folds of her
standard blew against the wall, and her voice rose through all the
tumult. "On! Enter! _de la part de Dieu!_ for all is yours."

The Maid had other words to say, "_Renty, renty_, Classidas!" she cried,
"you called me vile names, but I have a great pity for your soul." He
on his side showered down blasphemies. He was at the last gasp; one
desperate last effort he made with a handful of men to escape from the
boulevard by the drawbridge to Les Tourelles, which crossed a narrow
strip of the river. But the bridge had been fired by a fire-ship from
Orleans and gave way under the rush of the heavily-armed men; and the
fierce Classidas and his companions were plunged into the river, where a
knight in armour, like a tower falling, went to the bottom in a moment.
Nearly thirty of them, it is said, plunged thus into the great Loire and
were seen no more.

It was the end of the struggle. The French flag swung forth on the
parapet, the French shout rose to heaven. Meanwhile a strange sight was
to be seen--the St. Michael in shining armour, who had led that assault,
shedding tears for the ferocious Classidas, who had cursed her with his
last breath. "_J'ai grande pitie de ton ame._" Had he but had time to
clear his soul and reconcile himself with God!

This was virtually the end of the siege of Orleans. The broken bridge on
the Loire had been rudely mended, with a great _gouttiere_ and planks,
and the people of Orleans had poured out over it to take the Tourelles
in flank--the English being thus taken between Jeanne's army on the one
side and the citizens on the other. The whole south bank of the river
was cleared, not an Englishman left to threaten the richest part of
France, the land flowing with milk and honey. And though there
still remained several great generals on the other side with strong
forti