But, in all our waiting here, she has passed many an hour praying in the chapel, where the dead kings lie, yet her face is not glad when she comes forth.  It was wont to shine strangely, when she had been praying, at the chapel in Couldray, while we were at Chinon.  But now it is otherwise.  Moreover, we saw Paris very close to-day, and there were over many red crosses of St. George upon the walls.  And to-morrow is the Feast of the Blessed Virgin, no day for bloodshed.”

“Faint heart!” said I (and, indeed, after the assault on Paris, Louis des Coutes went back, and rode no more with the maid).  “The better the day, the better the deed!  May I go within?”

“I will go with you,” he said, “for she said that you would come, and bade me bring you to her.”

We entered the gateway together, and before us lay the square of the farm, strewn with litter, and from within the byre we heard the milk ring in the pails, for the women were milking the cows.  And there we both stood astonished, for we saw the Maid as never yet I had seen her.  She was bareheaded, but wore the rest of her harness, holding in her hand a measure of corn.  All the fowls of the air seemed to be about her, expecting their meat.  But she was not throwing the grain among them, for she stood as still as a graven image, and, wonderful to tell, a dove was perched on her shoulder, and a mavis was nestling in her breast, while many birds flew round her, chiefly doves with burnished plumage, flitting as it were lovingly, and softly brushing her now and again with their wings.  Many a time had I heard it said that, while she was yet a child, the wild birds would come and nestle in the bosom of the Maid, but I had never believed the tale.  Yet now I saw this thing with mine own eyes, a fair sight and a marvellous, so beautiful she looked, with head unhelmeted, and the wild fowl and tame flitting about her and above her, the doves crooning sweetly in their soft voices.  Then her lips moved, and she spoke—­

“Tres doulx Dieu, en l’onneur de vostre saincte passion, je vous requier, se vous me aimes, que vous me revelez ce que je doy faire demain pour vostre gloire!”

So she fell silent again, and to me it seemed that I must not any longer look upon that holy mystery, so, crossing myself, I laid my hand on the shoulder of the page, and we went silently from the place.

“Have you ever seen it in this manner?” I whispered, when we were again without the farmyard.

“Never,” said he, trembling, “though once I saw a stranger thing.”

“And what may that have been?”

“Nay, I spoke of it to her, and she made me swear that I never would reveal it to living soul, save in confession.  But she is not as other women.”

What he had in his mind I know not, but I bade him good even, and went back into the town, where lights were beginning to show in the casements.  In the space within the gates were many carts gathered, full of faggots wherewith to choke up the fosse under Paris, and tables to throw above the faggots, and so cross over to the assault.