[A Heroine of France by Evelyn Everett-Green]@TWC D-Link bookA Heroine of France CHAPTER XV 16/16
The Maid came forth as she had said with the last of the daylight, and at her command a great mound was speedily raised, of earth, brushwood, faggots, stones--anything that the soldiers could lay hands upon; and when this hillock was of height sufficient to satisfy the young General, the great guns were brought and set upon it in such masterly fashion, and in such a commanding way, that La Hire, Dunois and Xantrailles, who came to see, marvelled at it, and we could note from the top of this earthwork that within the city great commotion reigned, and that it was as busy as a hive that has been disturbed. As the first mystic glow of the summer's dawn kindled in the eastern sky, the Maid stood, a white luminous figure in full armour, poised lightly on the top of one of our pieces of ordnance, her drawn sword in her hand, pointing full in the direction of the city. I have heard since from those within that the anxious garrison and citizens saw this motionless figure, and cried aloud in terror and awe.
To them it seemed as though St.Michael himself had come down to fight against them, and terror stricken they ran to the governors of the city and implored that surrender might be made, ere the heavens opened and rained lightnings down upon them. And thus it came about that ere the dawn had fairly come, an embassy was sent to the King and terms of surrender offered.
The King, from motives of policy or fear, the Maid, from pity and generosity, accepted the messengers graciously, and granted the garrison leave to depart with their horses and their arms, if the town were peacefully given up; and thus it came about that after the King had finished his night's slumber, and the Maid had done her gracious part in redeeming and releasing the French prisoners, which, but for her, would have been carried away by the retiring English and Burgundians, she rode beside the King, and at the head of the cheering and tumultuous army into the city of Troyes, which had surrendered to the magic of her name without striking a blow. "O my Chevaliere," cried the happy and triumphant monarch, as he turned to look into her grave serene face.
"What a wonderful Maid you are! Stay always with me, Jeanne, and be my friend and General to my life's end." She looked at him long and earnestly as she made answer: "Alas, Sire, it may not be! For a year--perhaps for a year.
But I shall last no longer than that!".
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