nts failed, though he had promised
us a duel in the open field. Night shut down. Let him look out for the
morning! But in the morning he was gone again.

We entered Compiegne the 18th of August, turning out the English
garrison and hoisting our own flag.

On the 23d Joan gave command to move upon Paris. The King and the clique
were not satisfied with this, and retired sulking to Senlis, which had
just surrendered. Within a few days many strong places submitted--Creil,
Pont-Saint-Maxence, Choisy, Gournay-sur-Aronde, Remy, Le
Neufville-en-Hez, Moguay, Chantilly, Saintines. The English power was
tumbling, crash after crash! And still the King sulked and disapproved,
and was afraid of our movement against the capital.

On the 26th of August, 1429, Joan camped at St. Denis; in effect, under
the walls of Paris.

And still the King hung back and was afraid. If we could but have had
him there to back us with his authority! Bedford had lost heart and
decided to waive resistance and go an concentrate his strength in the
best and loyalest province remaining to him--Normandy. Ah, if we
could only have persuaded the King to come and countenance us with his
presence and approval at this supreme moment!

40 Treachery Conquers Joan

COURIER after courier was despatched to the King, and he promised to
come, but didn't. The Duke d'Alencon went to him and got his promise
again, which he broke again. Nine days were lost thus; then he came,
arriving at St. Denis September 7th.

Meantime the enemy had begun to take heart: the spiritless conduct of
the King could have no other result. Preparations had now been made to
defend the city. Joan's chances had been diminished, but she and her
generals considered them plenty good enough yet. Joan ordered the attack
for eight o'clock next morning, and at that hour it began.

Joan placed her artillery and began to pound a strong work which
protected the gate St. Honor. When it was sufficiently crippled the
assault was sounded at noon, and it was carried by storm. Then we moved
forward to storm the gate itself, and hurled ourselves against it again
and again, Joan in the lead with her standard at her side, the smoke
enveloping us in choking clouds, and the missiles flying over us and
through us as thick as hail.

In the midst of our last assault, which would have carried the gate
sure and given us Paris and in effect France, Joan was struck down by
a crossbow bolt, and our men fell back