in the town. But he believed that in war her part was purely
spiritual.[1007]

[Footnote 1006: _Ibid._, p. 212. _Journal du siege_, p. 78.]

[Footnote 1007: I have followed the account of Jean Chartier, vol. i,
p. 73 (amplified in _La chronique de la Pucelle_, p. 288), which is
more plausible than that of _Le journal du siege_.]

After he had withdrawn, Jeanne, worn out by her morning's expedition,
lay down on her bed with her hostess for a short sleep. Sire Jean
d'Aulon, who was very weary, stretched himself on a couch in the same
room, thinking to take the rest he so greatly needed. But scarce had
he fallen asleep when the Maid leapt from her bed and roused him with
a great noise. He asked her what she wanted.

"In God's name," she answered in great agitation, "my Council have
told me to go against the English; but I know not whether I am to go
against their bastions or against Fastolf, who is bringing them
supplies."[1008]

[Footnote 1008: _Trial_, vol. iii, pp. 212, 213 (Jean d'Aulon's
evidence).]

In her dreams she had been present at her Council, that is to say, she
had beheld her saints. She had seen Saint Catherine and Saint
Margaret. There had happened to her what always happens. The saints
had told her no more than she herself knew. They had revealed to her
nothing of what she needed to know. They had not informed her how, at
that very moment, the French were attacking the Saint-Loup bastion and
suffering great hurt. And the Blessed Ones had departed leaving her in
error and in ignorance of what was going on, and in uncertainty as to
what she was to do. The good Sire d'Aulon was not the one to relieve
her from her embarrassment. He, too, was excluded from the Councils of
War. Now he answered her nothing, and set to arming himself as quickly
as possible. He had already begun when they heard a great noise and
cries coming up from the street. From the passers-by, they gleaned
that there was fighting near Saint-Loup and that the enemy was
inflicting great hurt on the French. Without staying to inquire
further, Jean d'Aulon went straightway to his squire to have his
armour put on. Almost at the same time Jeanne went down and asked:
"Where are my armourers? The blood of our folk is flowing."[1009]

[Footnote 1009: _Ibid._, vol. iii, p. 106.]

In the street she found Brother Pasquerel, her chaplain, with other
priests, and Mugot, her page, to whom she cried: "Ha! cruel boy, you
did not tell me that the blo