When the came she made that statement to them in a plain matter-of-fact way, and just as if the thought never entered her mind that any one could doubt it after she had given her word that it was true.  The men were evidently amazed and impressed to hear her say such a thing in such a sure and confident way, for prophecies boldly uttered never fall barren on superstitious ears.  Yes, this speech certainly impressed them, but her closing remark impressed them still more.  It was for the ringleader, and Joan said it sorrowfully: 

“It is a pity that you should plot another’s death when you own is so close at hand.”

That man’s horse stumbled and fell on him in the first ford which we crossed that night, and he was drowned before we could help him.  We had no more conspiracies.

This night was harassed with ambuscades, but we got through without having any men killed.  One more night would carry us over the hostile frontier if we had good luck, and we saw the night close down with a good deal of solicitude.  Always before, we had been more or less reluctant to start out into the gloom and the silence to be frozen in the fords and persecuted by the enemy, but this time we were impatient to get under way and have it over, although there was promise of more and harder fighting than any of the previous nights had furnished.  Moreover, in front of us about three leagues there was a deep stream with a frail wooden bridge over it, and as a cold rain mixed with snow had been falling steadily all day we were anxious to find out whether we were in a trap or not.  If the swollen stream had washed away the bridge, we might properly consider ourselves trapped and cut off from escape.

As soon as it was dark we filed out from the depth of the forest where we had been hidden and began the march.  From the time that we had begun to encounter ambushes Joan had ridden at the head of the column, and she took this post now.  By the time we had gone a league the rain and snow had turned to sleet, and under the impulse of the storm-wind it lashed my face like whips, and I envied Joan and the knights, who could close their visors and shut up their heads in their helmets as in a box.  Now, out of the pitchy darkness and close at hand, came the sharp command: 

“Halt!”

We obeyed.  I made out a dim mass in front of us which might be a body of horsemen, but one could not be sure.  A man rode up and said to Joan in a tone of reproof: 

“Well, you have taken your time, truly.  And what have you found out?  Is she still behind us, or in front?”

Joan answered in a level voice: 

“She is still behind.”

This news softened the stranger’s tone.  He said: 

“If you know that to be true, you have not lost your time, Captain.  But are you sure?  How do you know?”

“Because I have seen her.”

“Seen her!  Seen the Virgin herself?”

“Yes, I have been in her camp.”