ngs, the meaner
half-seen persons, the fierce contending personal interests--in which
there was no love of either God or man, or any elevated notion of
patriotism--came again into play.

Jeanne would seem to have already foreseen and felt this change even
before she left Rheims; there is a new tone of sadness in some of her
recorded words; or if not of sadness, at least of consciousness that an
end was approaching to all these triumphs and splendours. The following
tale is told in various different versions, as occurring with different
people; but the account I give is taken from the lips of Dunois himself,
a very competent witness. As the King, after his coronation, wended his
way through the country, receiving submission and joyous welcome from
every village and little town, it happened that while passing through
the town of La Ferte, Jeanne rode between the Archbishop of Rheims and
Dunois. The Archbishop had never been friendly to the Maid, and now it
was clear, watched her with that half satirical, half amused look of
the wise man, curious and cynical in presence of the incomprehensible,
observing her ways and very ready to catch her tripping and to entangle
her if possible in her own words. The people thronged the way, full of
enthusiasm, acclaiming the King and shouting their joyful exclamations
of "Noel!" though it does not appear that any part of their devotion was
addressed to Jeanne herself. "Oh, the good people," she cried with tears
in her eyes, "how joyful they are to see their noble King! And how happy
should I be to end my days and be buried here among them!" The
priest unmoved by such an exclamation from so young a mouth attempted
instantly, like the Jewish doctors with our Lord, to catch her in her
words and draw from her some expression that might be used against her.
"Jeanne," he said, "in what place do you expect to die?" It was a direct
challenge to the messenger of Heaven to take upon herself the gift
of prophecy. But Jeanne in her simplicity shattered the snare which
probably she did not even perceive: "When it pleases God," she said. "I
know neither the place nor the time."

It was enough, however, that she should think of death and of the
sweetness of it, after her work accomplished, in the very moment of
her height of triumph--to show something of a new leaven working in her
virgin soul.

One characteristic reward, however, Jeanne did receive. Her father and
uncle were lodged at the public c