rs distributed to their stations, Cauchon spoke from his
throne and commanded Joan to lay her hands upon the Gospels and swear to
tell the truth concerning everything asked her!

Joan's eyes kindled, and she rose; rose and stood, fine and noble, and
faced toward the Bishop and said:

"Take care what you do, my lord, you who are my judge, for you take a
terrible responsibility on yourself and you presume too far."

It made a great stir, and Cauchon burst out upon her with an awful
threat--the threat of instant condemnation unless she obeyed. That
made the very bones of my body turn cold, and I saw cheeks about me
blanch--for it meant fire and the stake! But Joan, still standing,
answered him back, proud and undismayed:

"Not all the clergy in Paris and Rouen could condemn me, lacking the
right!"

This made a great tumult, and part of it was applause from the
spectators. Joan resumed her seat.

The Bishop still insisted. Joan said:

"I have already made oath. It is enough."

The Bishop shouted:

"In refusing to swear, you place yourself under suspicion!"

"Let be. I have sworn already. It is enough."

The Bishop continued to insist. Joan answered that "she would tell what
she knew--but not all that she knew."

The Bishop plagued her straight along, till at last she said, in a weary
tone:

"I came from God; I have nothing more to do here. Return me to God, from
whom I came."

It was piteous to hear; it was the same as saying, "You only want my
life; take it and let me be at peace."

The Bishop stormed out again:

"Once more I command you to--"

Joan cut in with a nonchalant "Passez outre," and Cauchon retired from
the struggle; but he retired with some credit this time, for he offered
a compromise, and Joan, always clear-headed, saw protection for herself
in it and promptly and willingly accepted it. She was to swear to tell
the truth "as touching the matters et down in the proces verbal." They
could not sail her outside of definite limits, now; her course was
over a charted sea, henceforth. The Bishop had granted more than he had
intended, and more than he would honestly try to abide by.

By command, Beaupere resumed his examination of the accused. It being
Lent, there might be a chance to catch her neglecting some detail of
her religious duties. I could have told him he would fail there. Why,
religion was her life!

"Since when have you eaten or drunk?"

If the least thing had passed her lips i