t all out before and arranging it in her mind, it flowed from her
lips so smoothly, and framed itself into such vivacious and forcible
language. Still, it might not have been so; she always had a quick mind
and a capable tongue, and her faculties were constantly developing
in these latter weeks. This letter was to be forwarded presently from
Blois. Men, provisions, and money were offering in plenty now, and
Joan appointed Blois as a recruiting-station and depot of supplies, and
ordered up La Hire from the front to take charge.

The Great Bastard--him of the ducal house, and governor of Orleans--had
been clamoring for weeks for Joan to be sent to him, and now came
another messenger, old D'Aulon, a veteran officer, a trusty man and fine
and honest. The King kept him, and gave him to Joan to be chief of her
household, and commanded her to appoint the rest of her people herself,
making their number and dignity accord with the greatness of her office;
and at the same time he gave order that they should be properly equipped
with arms, clothing, and horses.

Meantime the King was having a complete suit of armor made for her at
Tours. It was of the finest steel, heavily plated with silver, richly
ornamented with engraved designs, and polished like a mirror.

Joan's Voices had told her that there was an ancient sword hidden
somewhere behind the altar of St. Catherine's at Fierbois, and she sent
De Metz to get it. The priests knew of no such sword, but a search was
made, and sure enough it was found in that place, buried a little way
under the ground. It had no sheath and was very rusty, but the priests
polished it up and sent it to Tours, whither we were now to come. They
also had a sheath of crimson velvet made for it, and the people of Tours
equipped it with another, made of cloth-of-gold. But Joan meant to carry
this sword always in battle; so she laid the showy sheaths away and
got one made of leather. It was generally believed that this sword had
belonged to Charlemagne, but that was only a matter of opinion. I wanted
to sharpen that old blade, but she said it was not necessary, as she
should never kill anybody, and should carry it only as a symbol of
authority.

At Tours she designed her Standard, and a Scotch painter named James
Power made it. It was of the most delicate white boucassin, with fringes
of silk. For device it bore the image of God the Father throned in the
clouds and holding the world in His hand; two ang