will give us
the victory!"

We were at the Burgundy Gate by this time and, dashing through, we
saw a terrible sight. The whole open plain between the walls of the
town and the fortress of St. Loup was covered with soldiers, strewn
with dying and dead. A horrible sort of fight was going on,
horrible to us, because the French were in full retreat before our
foe, going down like sheep before the butcher's knife, rushing
panic stricken hither and thither as men demented, whilst the
English soldiers, as though ashamed of their recent inaction and
paralysis, were fiercely pursuing, shouting "Kill! kill! kill!" as
they went about their work of slaughter, driving back their
enemies, and striking at them remorselessly.

Here and there a brave officer, with his band of chosen followers,
would be presenting a bold face to the foe, making a stand and
seeking to rally the flying ranks. I was certain that I saw De
Gamache himself, hewing his way like a very Paladin through the
ranks of the English, and dealing death and destruction wherever he
went. But the valour of a few had no power to turn the fortunes of
the field; and the rout had already begun, when the Maid and her
attendants, closely followed by an enthusiastic band of soldiers
and citizens, dashed forth from the Burgundy Gate, and mingled with
the flying French hastening towards the city for safety.

"Courage, my children, courage!" cried the Maid, waving her white
pennon. "Be not dismayed. The Lord has heard your cries. He has
sent me to your aid. Take courage! Fear nothing, for the victory
shall be ours!"

She did not even pause to note the effect of her words upon them,
but sped onwards, fearless of danger, right into the very heart of
the battle. We followed and closed up round her; but that shining
white figure could not be hidden. The English saw it bearing down
upon them, and instantly there was wavering in their ranks. Before
our swords had had time to strike at them, something touched them
as with an icy hand.

"The Maid! the Maid! The White Witch!" they cried, and they paused
in their pursuit to gaze upon that dazzling figure, and methinks
their hearts melted like wax within them.

From behind now arose a mighty tumult, and shouts and cries as of
triumph thundered from the city walls. Dunois and La Hire, more
tardily advised of what was happening, but prompt and decisive in
action, were galloping out of the Gate at the head of the picked
soldiers under