ch arts we instructed her day by day. I had
noted her strength and suppleness of limb the very first day I had
seen her; and she gave marvellous proof of it now. She possessed
also that power over her horse which she exercised over men, and
each charger that she rode in turn answered almost at once to her
voice and hand, with a docility he never showed to other riders.
Yet she never smote or spurred them; the sound of her voice, or the
light pressure of knee or hand was enough. She had never any fear
from the first, and was never unhorsed. Very soon she acquired such
skill and ease that we had no fears for her with regard to the
journey she soon must take.

Although filling the time up thus usefully, her heart was ever set
upon her plan, and daily she would wistfully ask:

"May we not yet sally forth to the Dauphin?"

Still she bore the delay well, never losing opportunities for
learning such things as might be useful to her; and towards the end
of the month there came a peremptory summons to her from the Duke
of Lorraine, who was lying very ill at Nancy.

"They tell me," he wrote to De Baudricourt, "that you have at
Vaucouleurs a woman who may be in sooth that Maid of Lorraine who,
it has been prophesied, is to arise and save France. I have a great
curiosity to see her; wherefore, I pray you, send her to me without
delay. It may be that she will recover me of my sickness. In any
case, I would fain have speech of her; so do not fail to send her
forthwith."

De Baudricourt had no desire to offend his powerful neighbour, and
he forthwith went down to the house of Leroyer, taking Bertrand and
me with him, to ask of the Maid whether she would go to see the
Duke at his Court, since the journey thither was but short, and
would be a fitting preparation for the longer one.

We found her sitting in the saddler's shop, with one of his
children on her lap, watching whilst he fashioned for her a saddle,
which the citizens of Vaucouleurs were to give her. Bertrand and I
were to present the horse she was to ride, and I had also sent to
my home for a certain holiday suit and light armour made for a
brother of mine who had died young. I had noted that the Maid had
just such a slim, tall figure as he, and was certain that this
suit, laid away by our mother in a cedar chest, would fit her as
though made for her. But it had not come yet, and she was habited
in the tunic and hose she now wore at all times. Her beautiful hair
still