iliar names so often quoted, triumphant, important, no doubt
with much show of pompous solemnity, to find out for himself. The Castle
was all in excitement, report and gossip already busy with the new event
so trifling, so all-important. There was no idea now of turning back the
visitors. The prison doors were eagerly thrown open, and there indeed
once more, in her tunic and hose, was Jeanne, whom they had left four
days before painfully contemplating the garments they had given her, and
humbly promising obedience. The men burst in upon her with an outcry of
astonishment. What she had changed her dress again? "Yes," she replied,
"she had resumed the costume of a man." There was no triumph in what she
said, but rather a subdued tone of sadness, as of one who in the most
desperate strait has taken her resolution and must abide by it, whether
she likes it or not. She was asked why she had resumed that dress, and
who had made her do so. There was no question of anything else at first.
The tunic and _gippon_ were at once enough to decide her fate.

She answered that she had done it by her own will, no one influencing
her to do so; and that she preferred the dress of a man to that of a
woman.

She was reminded that she had promised and sworn not to resume the dress
of a man. She answered that she was not aware she had ever sworn or had
made any such oath.

She was asked why she had done it. She answered that it was more lawful
to wear a man's dress among men, than the dress of a woman; and also
that she had taken it back because the promise made to her had not been
kept, that she should hear the mass, and receive her Saviour, and be
delivered from her irons.

She was asked if she had not abjured that dress, and sworn not to resume
it. She answered that she would rather die than be left in irons; but if
they would allow her to go to mass and take her out of her irons and put
her in a gracious prison, and a woman with her, she would be good, and
do whatever the Church pleased.

She was then asked suddenly, as if there had been no condemnation of her
voices as lying fables, whether since Thursday she had heard them again.
To this she answered, recovering a little courage, "Yes."

She was asked what they said to her; she answered that they said God had
made known to her by St. Catherine and St. Margaret the great pity there
was of the treason to which she had consented by making abjuration and
revocation in order to save he