; so one last charge the Bastard commanded, and led himself, and a
sore tussle there was that time on the wall-crest, one or two of our men
leaping into the fort, whence they came back no more.

Now it was eight hours of the evening, the sky grey, the men out-worn and
out of all heart, and the captains were gathered in council. Of this I
conceived the worst hope, for after a counsel men seldom fight. So I
watched the fort right sullenly, and the town of Orleans looking black
against a red, lowering sky in the west. Some concourse of townsfolk I
saw on the bridge, beside the broken arch, and by the Boulevard Belle
Croix; but I deemed that they had only come to see the fray as near as
might be. Others were busy under the river wall with a great black boat,
belike to ferry over the horses from our side.

All seemed ended, and I misdoubted that we would scarce charge again so
briskly in the morning, nay, we might well have to guard our own gates.

As I sat thus, pondering by the vineyard ditch, the Maid stood by me
suddenly. Her helmet was off, her face deadly white, her eyes like two
stars.

"Bring me my horse," she said, so sternly that I crushed the answer on my
lips, and the prayer that she would risk herself no more.

Her horse, that had been cropping the grass near him happily enough, I
found, and brought to her, and so, with some ado, she mounted and rode at
a foot's pace to the little crowd of captains.

"Maiden, ma mie," said the Bastard. "Glad I am to see you able to mount.
We have taken counsel to withdraw for this night. Martin," he said to
his trumpeter, "sound the recall."

"I pray you, sir," she said very humbly, "grant me but a little while";
and so saying, she withdrew alone from the throng of men into the
vineyard.

What passed therein I know not and no man knows; but in a quarter of an
hour's space she came forth, like another woman, her face bright and
smiling, her cheeks like the dawn, and so beautiful that we marvelled on
her with reverence, as if we had seen an angel.

"The place is ours!" she cried again, and spurred towards the fosse.
Thence her banner had never gone back, for D'Aulon held it there, to be a
terror to the English. Even at that moment he had given it to a certain
Basque, a very brave man, for he himself was out-worn with its weight.
And he had challenged the Basque to do a vaillance, or boastful deed of
arms, as yesterday I and the Spaniard had done. So D'Aulon leape