es" and the counsel they gave her, was already the best
general of them all.

When Talbot stood before the French generals, no less a person than
Alencon himself is reported to have made a remark to him, of that
ungenerous kind which we call in feminine language "spiteful," and which
is not foreign to the habit of that great nation. "You did not think
this morning what would have happened to you before sunset," said the
Duc d'Alencon to the prisoner. "It is the fortune of war," replied the
English chief.

Once more, however it is like a sudden fall from the open air and
sunshine when the victorious army and its chiefs turned back to the
Court where the King and his councillors sat idle, waiting for news
of what was being done for them. A battle-field is no fine sight; the
excitement of the conflict, the great end to be served by it, the sense
of God's special protection, even the tremendous uproar of the fight,
the intoxication of personal action, danger, and success have, we do not
doubt a rapture and passion in them for the moment, which carry the mind
away; but the bravest soldier holds his breath when he remembers the
after scene, the dead and dying, the horrible injuries inflicted, the
loss and misery. However, not even the miserable scene of the Chasse de
Patay is so painful as the reverse of the dismal picture, the halls of
the royal habitation where, while men died for him almost within hearing
of the fiddling and the dances, the young King trifled away his useless
days among his idle favourites, and the musicians played, the assemblies
were held, and all went on as in the Tuileries. We feel as if we had
fallen fathoms deep into the meannesses of mankind when we come back
from the bloodshed and the horror outside, to the King's presence
within. The troops which had gone out in uncertainty, on an enterprise
which might well have proved too great for them, had returned in full
flush of triumph, having at last fully broken the spell of the English
superiority--which was the greatest victory that could have been
achieved: besides gaining the substantial advantage of three important
towns brought back to the King's allegiance--only to find themselves as
little advanced as before, coming back to the self-same struggle with
indolent complaining, indifference, and ingratitude.

Jeanne had given the signs that had been demanded from her. She had
delivered Orleans, she cleared the King's road toward the north. She
had