From Lagny Jeanne went on to various other places in danger, or which wanted encouragement and help.  She made two or three hurried visits to Compiegne, which was threatened by both parties of the enemy; at one time raising the siege of Choicy, near Compiegne, in company with the Archbishop of Rheims, a strange brother in arms.  On another of her visits to Compiegne there is said to have occurred an incident which, if true, reveals to us with very sad reality the trouble that overshadowed the Maid.  She had gone to early mass in the Church of St. Jacques, and communicated, as was her custom.  It must have been near Easter—­perhaps the occasion of the first communion of some of the children who are so often referred to, among whom she loved to worship.  She had retired behind a pillar on which she leaned as she stood, and a number of people, among whom were many children, drew near after the service to gaze at her.  Jeanne’s heart was full, and she had no one near to whom she could open it and relieve her soul.  As she stood against the pillar her trouble burst forth.  “Dear friends and children,” she said, “I have to tell you that I have been sold and betrayed, and will soon be given up to death.  I beg of you to pray for me; for soon I shall no longer have any power to serve the King and the kingdom.”  These words were told to the writer who records them, in the year 1498, by two very old men who had heard them, being children at the time.  The scene was one to dwell in a child’s recollection, and, if true, it throws a melancholy light upon the thoughts that filled the mind of Jeanne, though her actions may have seemed as energetic and her impulses as strong as in her best days.

At last the news came speeding through the country that Compiegne was being invested on all sides.  It had been the headquarters of Charles and had received him with acclamations, and therefore the alarm of the townsfolk for the retribution awaiting them, should they fall into the hands of the enemy, was great; it was besides a very important position.  Jeanne was at Crespy en Valois when this news reached her.  She set out immediately (May 22, 1430) to carry aid to the garrison:  “F’irai voir mes bons amis de Compiegne,” she said.  The words are on the base of her statue which now stands in the Place of that town.  Something of her early impetuosity was in this impulse, and no apparent dread of any fatality.  She rode all night at the head of her party, and arrived before the dawn, a May morning, the 23d, still a month from the fatal “St. Jean.”  Though the prophecy was always in her ears, she must have felt that whole month still before her, with a sensation of almost greater safety because the dangerous moment was fixed.  The town received her with joy, and no doubt the satisfaction and relief which hailed her and her reinforcements gave additional fervour to the Maid, and drove out of her mind for a moment the fatal knowledge which oppressed it.  There is some difficulty in understanding