“You were his target, I make no doubt,” said Barthelemy, “but by reason of the throng he had no certain aim.”

“After we broke into the bastille, I can find no man who has set eyes on him,” and I cursed the cordelier for very rage.

“He is well away, if he stays away:  you and I need scarce any longer pray for eyes in the backs of our heads.  But what make we next?”

“I have but one thought,” I said:  “to pluck the Maid out of the hands of the English, for now men say that she is sold to them by Jean of Luxembourg.  They mean to take her to Arras, and so by Crotoy at the mouth of Seine, and across Normandy to Rouen.  Save her France must, for the honour of France.”

“My mind is the same,” he said, and fell into a muse.  “Hence the straight road, and the shortest,” he said at last, “is by Beauvais on to Rouen, where she will lie in chains,” and drawing his dagger he scratched lines on the bridge parapet with its point.  “Here is Compiegne; there, far to the west, is the sea, and here is Rouen.  That straight line,” which he scratched, “goes to Rouen from Compiegne.  Here, midway, is Beauvais, whereof we spoke, which town we hold.  But there, between us and Beauvais, is Clermont, held by Crevecoeur for the Burgundians, and here, midway between Beauvais and Rouen, is Gournay, where Kyriel and the Lord Huntingdon lie with a great force of English.  Do you comprehend?  We must first take Clermont ere we can ride to rescue the Maid at Rouen!”

“The King should help us,” I said.  “For what is the army that has delivered Compiegne but a set of private bands, under this gentleman’s flag or that, some with Boussac, some with Xaintrailles, some with a dozen others, and victuals are hard to come by.”

“Ay, many a peaceful man sits by the fire and tells how great captains should have done this, and marched there, never thinking that men fight on their bellies.  And the King should help us, and march with D’Alencon through Normandy from the south, while our companies take Clermont if we may, and drive back the English and Burgundians.  But you know the King, and men say that the Archbishop of Reims openly declares that the Maid is rightly punished for her pride.  He has set up a mad shepherd-boy to take her place, Heaven help him! who can fight as well as that stone can swim,” and he dropped a loose stone over the bridge into the water.

“Whoever stays at home, we take the field,” I said; “let us seek counsel of Xaintrailles.”

We rose and went to the Jacobins, where Xaintrailles was lodged, and there found him at his dejeuner.

He was a tall young knight, straight as a lance, lean as a greyhound; for all his days his sword had won his meat; and he was hardy, keen, and bright, with eyes of steel in a scarred face, and his brow was already worn bald with the helmet.  When he walked his legs somewhat straggled apart, by reason of his much riding.