They who tell that Flavy sold her, closing the gates in her face, do him wrong; he was an ill man, but loyal to France, as was seen by the very defence he made at Compiegne, for there was none like it in this war.

But of what avail was that to us who loved the Maid?
Rather, many times, would I have died in that hour than have seen what I saw.

For our enemies made no more tarrying, nor any onslaught on the boulevard, but rode swiftly back with the prize they had taken, with her whom they feared more than any knight or captain of France.

This page whereon I work, in a hand feeble and old, and weary with much writing, is blotted with tears that will not be held in.

But we must bow humbly to the will of God and of His Saints.