for one who was to act as a general.  But it was the command of her heavenly guides.  “Take the standard on the part of God, and carry it boldly,” they had said.  She had, besides, a simple, half-childish intention of her own in this, which she explained shame-faced—­she had no wish to use her sword though she loved it, and would kill no man.  The banner was a more safe occupation, and saved her from all possibility of blood-shedding; it must however, have required the robust arm of a peasant to sustain the heavy weight.

It will show how long a time all these examinations and preparations had taken when we read that Jeanne set out from Blois, where she had passed some time in military preparations, only on the 27th day of April; nearly two whole months had thus been taken up in testing her truth, and arranging details, trifling and unnecessary in her eyes:—­a period which had been passed in great anxiety by the people of Orleans, with the huge bastilles of the English—­three of which were named Paris, Rouen, and London—­towering round them, their provisions often intercepted, all the business of life come to a standstill, and the overwhelming responsibility upon them of being almost the last barrier between the invader and the final subjugation of France.  It is strange to add that, judging by ordinary rules, the garrison of Orleans ought to have been quite sufficient in itself in numbers and science of war, to have beaten and dispersed the English force which had thus succeeded in shutting them in; there were many notable captains among them, with Dunois, known as the Bastard of Orleans, one of the most celebrated and brave of French generals, at their head.  Dunois was in no way inferior to the generals of the English army; he was popular, beloved by the people and soldiers alike, and though illegitimate, of the House of Orleans, one of the native seigneurs of the place.  The wonder is how he and his officers permitted the building of these towers, and the shutting in of the town which they were quite strong enough to protect.  But it was a losing game which they were playing, a part which does not suit the genius of the nation; and the superstition in favour of the English who had won so many battles with all the disadvantages on their side,—­cutting the finest armies to pieces—­was strong upon the imagination of the time.  It seemed a fate which no valour or skill upon the side of the French could avert.  Dunois, himself an unlikely person, one would have thought, to yield the honour of the fight to a woman, seems to have perceived that without a strong counter-motive, not within the range of ordinary methods, the situation was beyond hope.