the table beside the broken reliquary.
"Let us rest side by side, sister, for I long for maids' talk."

But now Catherine started and recoiled. For on the blue tunic she had
caught sight of an embroidered white dove bearing in its beak the
scroll De par le Roy du ciel. It was a blazon the tale of which had gone
through France.

"You are she!" she stammered. "The witch of Lorraine!"

The other looked wonderingly at her. "I am Jeanne of Arc," she said
simply. "She whom they call the Pucelle. Do you shrink from me, sister?"

Catherine's face was aflame. She remembered her lost lover, and the
tears scarcely dry. "Out upon you!" she cried. "You are that false woman
that corrupt men's hearts." And again her fingers sought the silver
whistle.

Jeanne looked sadly upon her. Her merry eyes had grown grave.

"I pray you forbear. I do not heed the abuse of men, but a woman's
taunts hurt me. They have spoken falsely of me, dear sister. I am no
witch, but a poor girl who would fain do the commands of God."

She sank on the settle with the relaxed limbs of utter fatigue. "I was
happy when they told me there was a lady here. I bade Louis and Raymond
and the Sieur d'Aulon leave me undisturbed till morning, for I would
fain rest. Oh, but I am weary of councils! They are all blind. They will
not hear the plain wishes of God.... And I have so short a time! Only a
year, and now half is gone!"

The figure had lost all its buoyancy, and become that of a sad,
overwrought girl. Catherine found her anger ebbing and pity stealing
into her heart. Could this tired child be the virago against whom she
had sworn vengeance? It had none of a woman's allure' no arts of the
light-of-love. Its eyes were as simple as a boy's.... She looked almost
kindly at the drooping Maid.

But in a moment the languor seemed to pass from her. Her face lit up,
as to the watcher in the darkness a window in a tower suddenly becomes
a square of light. She sank on her knees, her head thrown back, her
lips parted, the long eyelashes quiet on her cheeks. A sudden stillness
seemed to fall on everything. Catherine held her breath, and listened to
the beating of her heart.

Jeanne's lips moved, and then her eyes opened. She stood up again, her
face entranced and her gaze still dwelling on some hidden world... Never
had Catherine seen such happy radiance.

"My Brothers of Paradise spoke with me. They call me sometimes when I
am sad. Their voices said to me, 'Daughter