CHAPTER XI--HOW MADAME CATHERINE OF FIERBOIS WROUGHT A MIRACLE FOR A
SCOT, AND HOW NORMAN RODE TO THE WARS

Now, in this place I cannot withhold me from telling of an adventure
which at this very time befell, though it scarce belongs to my present
chronicle. But it may be that, in time to come, faith will wax cold, and
the very saints be misdoubted of men. It therefore behoves me not to
hold back the truth which I know, and which this tale makes plain and
undeniable even by Hussites, Lollards, and other miscreants. For he who
reads must be constrained to own that there is no strait so terrible but
the saints can bring safely forth therefrom such men as call upon them.

There came at this season to Chinon from Fierbois (where the Maid's sword
was found by miracle) a Scottish archer, not aforetime of our company,
though now he took service with us. He was named Michael Hamilton, and
was a tall man and strong, grim of face, sudden in anger, heavy of hand,
walked a little lame, and lacked one ear. That which follows he himself
told to us and to our chaplain, Father Urquhart, and I myself have read
it in the Book of the Miracles of Madame St. Catherine of Fierbois. {22}

You must know that Brittany, as at this time, held for the English, and
Michael Hamilton had gone thither reiving and pillaging the country with
a company of Scots men-at-arms. Hard by a place called Clisson they had
seized a deserted tower and held it for some days. It so fell out that
they took a burgess of the country, who was playing the spy on their
quarters; him they put to the torture, and so learned that the English
were coming against them with a great company of men-at-arms and of the
country folk, on that very night. They therefore delayed no longer than
to hang the spy from a sufficient bough of a tree, this Michael doing
what was needful, and so were hurrying to horse, when, lo! the English
were upon them. Not having opportunity to reach the stables and mount,
Michael Hamilton fled on foot, with what speed he might, but sorely
impeded by the weight of his armour. The country folk, therefore, being
light of foot, easily overtook him, and after slaying one and wounding
more, he was caught in a noose of rope thrown over him from behind. Now,
even as he felt the noose tighten about his arms, he (though not commonly
pious beyond the wont of men-at-arms) vowed in his heart to make a
pilgrimage to Fierbois, and to the shrine of Madame