lf in any sort an object of ridicule, or of seeming to give
credence to a wild tale of visions and voices, such as the world
would laugh to scorn. So he was filled with doubt and perplexity,
and this betrayed itself in gloomy looks and in harsh speech.

"Tush, boy! You are but an idle dreamer. I saw before that you were
fooled by a pretty face and a silvery voice. Go to!--your words are
but phantasy! Who believes in miracles now?"

"If we believe in the power of the good God, shall we not also
believe that He can work even miracles at His holy will?"

"Poof--miracles!--the dreams of a vain and silly girl!" scoffed De
Baudricourt, "I am sick of her name already!"

Then he suddenly turned upon me and spoke.

"Jean de Metz, you are a knight of parts. You have sense and
discretion above your years, and are no featherhead like Bertrand
here. Will you undertake a mission from me to this maiden? Ask of
her the story of her pretended mission. Seek to discover from her
whether she be speaking truth, or whether she be seeking to
deceive. Catch her in her speech if it may be. See whether the tale
she tells hang together, and then come and report to me. If she be
a mad woman, why should I be troubled with her? She cannot go to
the Dauphin yet, come what may. The melting snows have laid the
valleys under water, the roads are impassable; horses would stick
fast in the mire, and we are not at the end of winter yet. She must
needs wait awhile, whatever her message may be, but I would have
you get speech of her, and straightly question her from me. Then if
it seem well, I can see her again; but if you be willing, you shall
do so first."

I was more than willing. I was rejoiced to have this occasion for
getting speech with the Maid. I spoke no word of having had sight
of her already, but fell in with De Baudricourt's wish that I
should go to her as if a mere passing stranger, and only afterwards
reveal myself as his emissary. I slept but little all that night,
making plans as to all that I should speak when I saw her on the
morrow, and, rising early, I betook myself to Mass, not to the
private chapel of the Castle, but to one of the churches in the
town, though I could not have said why it was that I was moved to
do this.

Yet as I knelt in my place I knew, for there amongst the
worshippers, her face upraised and full of holy joy, her eyes
alight with the depth of her devotion, her hands clasped in an
ecstasy of prayer, was the