easures. Not that she was wilfully and wantonly sad,
yet now and again we could mark in her face the great and loving pity
that possessed her for France. Now I would be half angered with her, but
again far more wroth with myself, who could thus lightly think of that
passion of hers. But when she might she was ever at her prayers, or in
company of children, or seeking out such as were poor and needy, to whom
she was abundantly lavish of her gifts, so that, wheresoever the Court
went, the people blessed her.

In these months I had tidings of Elliot now and again; and as occasion
served I wrote to her, with messages of my love, and with a gift, as of a
ring or a jewel. But concerning the manner of my escape from Paris I had
told Elliot nothing for this cause. My desire was, when soonest I had an
occasion, to surprise her with the gift of her jackanapes anew, knowing
well that nothing could make her greater joy, save my own coming, or a
victory of the Maid. The little creature had been my comrade wheresoever
we went, as at Sully, Gien, and Bourges, only I took him not to the
leaguers of St. Pierre le Moustier and La Charite, but left him with a
fair lady of the Court. He had waxed fat again, for as meagre as he was
when he came to me in prison, and he was full of new tricks, warming
himself at the great fire in hall, like a man.

Now in the middle of the month of January, in the year of Grace fourteen
hundred and thirty, the Maid told us of her household that she would
journey to Orleans, to abide for some space with certain ladies of her
friends, namely, Madame de St. Mesmin and Madame de Mouchy, who loved her
dearly. To the most of us she gave holiday, to see our own friends. The
Maid knew surely that in France my friends were few, and well she guessed
whither I was bound. Therefore she sent for me, and bidding me carry her
love to Elliot, she put into my hands a gift to her friend. It was a
ring of silver-gilt, fashioned like that which her own father and mother
had given her. At this ring she had a custom of looking often, so that
the English conceived it to be an unholy talisman, though it bore the
Name that is above all names. That ring I now wear in my bosom. So,
saying farewell, with many kind words on her part, I rode towards Tours,
where Elliot and her father as then dwelt, in that same house where I had
been with them to be healed of my malady, after the leaguer of Orleans.
To Tours I rode, telling