peville
protested against Bishop Cauchon as a partisan and a Burgundian, and
therefore incapable by law of judging a member of the opposite party:
and had been rudely silenced, and afterwards punished, as we have
already heard. Another kind of opposition less bold had begun to be
remarked, which was that one of the persons present, by word and sign,
whispering suggestions to her, or warning her with his eyes, was helping
the unfortunate prisoner in her defence. Probably this did little good,
"for she was often troubled and hurried in her answers," we are told;
but it was a sign of good-will, at least. When Frere Isambard, who was
the person in question, speaks at a later period he tells us that "the
questions put to Jeanne were too difficult, subtle, and dangerous, so
that the great clerks and learned men who were present scarcely would
have known how to answer them, and that many in the assembly murmured
at them." Perhaps the good Frere Isambard might have spared himself the
trouble; for Jeanne, however she may have suffered, was probably more
able to hold her own than many of those great clerks, and did so with
unfailing courage and spirit. One of the other judges, Jean Fabry, a
bishop, declared afterwards that "her answers were so good, that for
three weeks he believed that they were inspired." Manchon, the reporter,
he who had refused to take down the private conversation of Jeanne in
her prison with the vile traitor, L'Oyseleur, makes his voice heard also
to the effect that "Monseigneur of Beauvais would have had everything
written as pleased him, and when there was anything that displeased him
he forbade the secretaries to report it as being of no importance for
the trial." On another day a humbler witness still, Massieu, one of the
officers of the court, who had the charge of taking Jeanne daily
from her prison to the hall, and back again, met in the courtyard an
Englishman, who seems to have been a singing man or lay clerk "of
the King's chapel in England," probably attached to Winchester's
ecclesiastical retinue. This man asked him: "What do you think of her
answers? Will she be burned? What will happen?" "Up to this time," said
Massieu, "I have heard nothing from her that was not honourable and
good. She seems to me a good woman, but how it will all end God only
knows!"

No doubt conversations of this kind were being carried on all over
Rouen. Would she be burned? What would happen? Could any one stand and
an