And when I was in case to walk upon the walls, and above the river, I might see men and boys diving in the water and searching for English cannon-balls, which we shot back at the English.
It chanced, one day, that I was sitting and sunning myself in the warm September weather, on a settle in a secure place hard by the Chapel Gate.
With me was Barthelemy Barrette, for it was the day of Our Lady's Feast, that very day whereon we had failed before Paris last year, and there was truce for the sacred season.

We fell to devising of what had befallen that day year, and without thought I told Barthelemy of my escape from prison, and so, little by little, I opened my heart to him concerning Brother Thomas and all his treasons.
Never was man more astounded than Barthelemy; and he bade me swear by the Blessed Trinity that all this tale was true.
"Mayhap you were fevered," he said, "when you lay in the casement seat, and saw the Maid taken by device of the cordelier." "I was no more fevered than I am now, and I swear, by what oath you will, and by the bones of St.Andrew, which these sinful hands have handled, that Flavy's face was set the other way when that cry came, 'Down portcullis, up drawbridge, close gates!' And now that I have told you the very truth, what should I do ?" "Brother Thomas should burn for this," quoth Barthelemy; "but not while the siege endures.

He carries too many English lives in his munition- box.

Nor can you slay him in single combat, or at unawares, for the man is a priest.

Nor would Flavy, who knows you not, listen to such a story." So there he sat, frowning, and plucking at his beard.