to
go to Joan's dungeon--a summons from Cauchon. But by that time distrust
had already taken possession of the English and their soldiery again,
and all Rouen was in an angry and threatening mood. We could see plenty
of evidences of this from our own windows--fist-shaking, black looks,
tumultuous tides of furious men billowing by along the street.

And we learned that up at the castle things were going very badly,
indeed; that there was a great mob gathered there who considered the
relapse a lie and a priestly trick, and among them many half-drunk
English soldiers. Moreover, these people had gone beyond words. They
had laid hands upon a number of churchmen who were trying to enter the
castle, and it had been difficult work to rescue them and save their
lives.

And so Manchon refused to go. He said he would not go a step without
a safeguard from Warwick. So next morning Warwick sent an escort of
soldiers, and then we went. Matters had not grown peacefuler meantime,
but worse. The soldiers protected us from bodily damage, but as we
passed through the great mob at the castle we were assailed with insults
and shameful epithets. I bore it well enough, though, and said to
myself, with secret satisfaction, "In three or four short days, my lads,
you will be employing your tongues in a different sort from this--and I
shall be there to hear."

To my mind these were as good as dead men. How many of them would still
be alive after the rescue that was coming? Not more than enough to amuse
the executioner a short half-hour, certainly.

It turned out that the report was true. Joan had relapsed. She was
sitting there in her chains, clothed again in her male attire.

She accused nobody. That was her way. It was not in her character to
hold a servant to account for what his master had made him do, and her
mind had cleared now, and she knew that the advantage which had been
taken of her the previous morning had its origin, not in the subordinate
but in the master--Cauchon.

Here is what had happened. While Joan slept, in the early morning of
Sunday, one of the guards stole her female apparel and put her male
attire in its place. When she woke she asked for the other dress, but
the guards refused to give it back. She protested, and said she was
forbidden to wear the male dress. But they continued to refuse. She had
to have clothing, for modesty's sake; moreover, she saw that she could
not save her life if she must fight for it again