wonder
at us."

Her face brightened as though a sunbeam had touched it. She needed
not to reply in words. A few minutes later, and we were walking
together through the wood, and had quickly reached the church,
where the chiming of the bell told us that we should not be
disappointed of our hope.

We knelt at the back of the church, and there were few worshippers
there that morning. I could not but watch the face of the Maid, and
suddenly I felt a curious thrill run through me, as though I had
been touched by an unseen hand. I looked at her, and upon her face
had come a look which told me that she was listening to some voice
unheard by me. She clasped her hands, her eyes travelled toward the
altar, and remained fixed upon it, as though she saw a vision. Her
lips moved, and I thought I heard the murmured words:

"Blessed Sainte Catherine, I hear. I will remember. When the time
comes I shall know what to do."

When the priest had finished his office we slipped out before any
one else moved, and reached the shelter of the woods again without
encountering any other person. I almost hoped that the Maid would
speak to us of what had been revealed to her in that church, but
she kept the matter in her own heart. Yet, methinks, she pondered
it long and earnestly; for although she laid her down as if to
sleep, her eyes were generally wide open, looking upwards through
the leafless budding boughs of the trees as though they beheld
things not of this earth.

It was upon this day that I wrote, at the Maid's request, a letter
to the uncrowned King at Chinon, asking of him an audience on
behalf of Jeanne d'Arc, the maiden from Domremy, of whom he had
probably heard. This letter I dispatched to Sir Guy de Laval,
asking him to deliver it to the King with his own hands, and to
bring us an answer ere we reached Chinon, which we hoped now to do
in a short while.

The missive was carried by the King's archer, who knew his road
right well, and was acquainted with the person of Sir Guy. He was
to ride forward in all haste, whilst we were to follow in slower
and more cautious fashion.

I think it was about the fifth day of March when the great towers
of Chinon first broke upon our gaze. We had been travelling all the
night, and it was just as the dawn was breaking that we espied the
huge round turrets rising, as it were, from amid the mists which
clung about the river and its banks. There we halted, for no
message had yet come from