“Now keep it always in my sight until the end.”

Not even yet could Cauchon, that man without shame, endure to let her die in peace, but went toward her, all black with crimes and sins as he was, and cried out: 

“I am come, Joan, to exhort you for the last time to repent and seek the pardon of God.”

“I die through you,” she said, and these were the last words she spoke to any upon earth.

Then the pitchy smoke, shot through with red flashes of flame, rolled up in a thick volume and hid her from sight; and from the heart of this darkness her voice rose strong and eloquent in prayer, and when by moments the wind shredded somewhat of the smoke aside, there were veiled glimpses of an upturned face and moving lips.  At last a mercifully swift tide of flame burst upward, and none saw that face any more nor that form, and the voice was still.

Yes, she was gone from us:  Joan of arc!  What little words they are, to tell of a rich world made empty and poor!

CONCLUSION

Joan’s brother Jacques died in Domremy during the Great Trial at Rouen.  This was according to the prophecy which Joan made that day in the pastures the time that she said the rest of us would go to the great wars.

When her poor old father heard of the martyrdom it broke his heart, and he died.

The mother was granted a pension by the city of Orleans, and upon this she lived out her days, which were many.  Twenty-four years after her illustrious child’s death she traveled all the way to Paris in the winter-time and was present at the opening of the discussion in the Cathedral of Notre Dame which was the first step in the Rehabilitation.  Paris was crowded with people, from all about France, who came to get sight of the venerable dame, and it was a touching spectacle when she moved through these reverent wet-eyed multitudes on her way to the grand honors awaiting her at the cathedral.  With her were Jean and Pierre, no longer the light-hearted youths who marched with us from Vaucouleurs, but war-torn veterans with hair beginning to show frost.

After the martyrdom Noel and I went back to Domremy, but presently when the Constable Richemont superseded La Tremouille as the King’s chief adviser and began the completion of Joan’s great work, we put on our harness and returned to the field and fought for the King all through the wars and skirmishes until France was freed of the English.  It was what Joan would have desired of us; and, dead or alive, her desire was law for us.  All the survivors of the personal staff were faithful to her memory and fought for the King to the end.  Mainly we were well scattered, but when Paris fell we happened to be together.  It was a great day and a joyous; but it was a sad one at the same time, because Joan was not there to march into the captured capital with us.