and plaster dropping from the walls of my cell till I was
wellnigh stifled, the day wore on, nor could I tell, in anywise, how the
battle went. The main onslaught, I knew, was not on the gate behind the
tower in which I lay, though that tower also was smitten of cannon-balls.

At length, well past mid-day, as I deemed by the light, came a hush, and
then a thicker smoke, and taste of burning pitch-wood, and a roar as if
all Paris had been blown into mid-air, so that my tower shook, while
heavy beams fell crashing to earth.

Again came a hush, and then one voice, clear as a clarion call, even the
voice of the Maid, "Tirez en avant, en avant!" How my blood thrilled at
the sound of it!

It must be now, I thought, or never, but the guns only roared the louder,
the din grew fierce and fiercer, till I heard a mighty roar, the English
shouting aloud as one man for joy, for so their manner is. Thrice they
shouted, and my heart sank within me. Had they slain the Maid? I knew
not, but for torment of soul there is scarce any greater than so to lie,
bound and alone, seeing nought, but guessing at what is befalling.

After these shouts it was easy to know that the fighting waned, and was
less fierce. The day, moreover, turned to thunder, and waxed lowering
and of a stifling heat. Yet my worst fears were ended, for I heard, now
and again, the clear voice of the Maid, bidding her men "fight on, for
all was theirs." But the voice was weaker now, and other than it had
been. So the day darkened, only once and again a shot was fired, and in
the dusk the shouts of the English told me over clearly that for to-day
our chance and hope were lost. Then the darkness grew deeper, and a star
shone through my casement, and feet went up and down upon the stairs, but
no man came near me. Below there was some faint cackle of mirth and
laughter, and at last the silence fell.

Once more came a swift step on the stairs, as of one stumbling up in
haste. The key rattled in the wards, a yellow light shone in, a man-at-
arms entered; he held a torch to my face, looked to my bonds, and then
gave me a kick, while one cried from below, "Come on, Dickon, your meat
is cooling!" So he turned and went out, the door clanging behind him,
and the key rattling in the wards.

In pain and fierce wrath I gnawed my black bread, drank some of the
water, and at last I bethought me of that which should have been first in
the thoughts of a Christian man, and I