We who had thought she would well-nigh sink to the dust at sight of us, had been made to feel that we were in the presence of royalty!" "Tu Dieu! but that is a strange story!" quoth Sir Guy with knitted brows.

"For many a long day I have heard nought so strange! What think you of it yourself, good Bertrand?
For by my troth you speak like a man convinced that a miracle may even yet be wrought for France at the hand of this maid." "And if I do, is that so strange?
Cannot it be that the good God may still speak through His saints to the sons of men, and may raise up a deliverer for us, even as He did in the days of old for His chosen people?
Is His arm shortened at all?
And is it meet that we Christian knights should trust Him less than did the Jews of old ?" Sir Guy made no reply, but fell into thought, and then asked a sudden question: "Who is this peasant maid of whom you speak?
And where is she now?
Is she still abiding content at home, awaiting the time appointed by her visions ?" "I trow that she is," answered Bertrand.

"I did hear that she went home without delay, as quietly as she had come.

Her name is Jeanne d'Arc.

She dwells in the village of Domremy over yonder.