No doubt she was a very great entertainment to the idle seigneurs and ladies who would try to persuade her to tell them what was to happen to them, she who had prophesied the death of Glasdale and her own wound and so many other things.  The Duke of Lorraine on her first setting out had attempted to discover from Jeanne what course his illness would take, and whether he should get better; and all the demoiselles and demoiseaux, the flutterers of the ante-chamber, would be still more likely to surround with their foolish questions the stout-hearted, impatient girl who had acquired a little of the roughness of her soldier comrades, and had never been slow at any time in answering a fool according to his folly; for Jeanne was no meek or sentimental maiden, but a robust and vigorous young woman, ready with a quick response, as well as with a ready blow did any one touch her unadvisedly, or use any inappropriate freedom.  At last, one day while she waited vainly outside the cabinet in which the King was retired with a few of his councillors, Jeanne’s patience failed her altogether.  She knocked at the door, and being admitted threw herself at the feet of the King.  To Jeanne he was no king till he had received the consecration necessary for every sovereign of France.  “Noble Dauphin,” she cried, “why should you hold such long and tedious councils?  Rather come to Rheims and receive your worthy crown.”

The Bishop of Castres, Christopher de Harcourt, who was present, asked her if she would not now in the presence of the King describe to them the manner in which her council instructed her, when they talked with her.  Jeanne reddened and replied:  “I understand that you would like to know, and I would gladly satisfy you.”  “Jeanne,” said the King in his turn, “it would be very good if you could do what they ask, in the presence of those here.”  She answered at once and with great feeling:  “When I am vexed to find myself disbelieved in the things I say from God, I retire by myself and pray to God, complaining and asking of Him why I am not listened to.  And when I have prayed I hear a voice which says, ‘Daughter of God, go, go, go!  I will help thee, go!’ And when I hear that voice I feel a great joy.”  Her face shone as she spoke, “lifting her eyes to heaven,” like the face of Moses while still it bore the reflection of the glory of God, so that the men were dazzled who sat, speechless, looking on.

The result was that Charles kindly promised to set out as soon as the road between him and Rheims should be free of the English, especially the towns on the Loire in which a great part of the army dispersed from Orleans had taken refuge, with the addition of the auxiliary forces of Sir John Fastolfe, a name so much feared by the French, but at which the English reader can scarcely forbear a smile.  That the young King did not think of putting himself at the head of the troops or of taking part in the campaign shows sufficiently that he was indeed a pauvre sire, unworthy