e to lead her by the opposite bank
of the river instead of that on which the English towers were built,
which she desired to attack at once. This was the beginning of a long
series of deceits and hostile combinations, by which at every step
of her way she was met and retarded; but it turned, as these devices
generally did, to the discomfiture of the adverse captains. She crossed
the river at Checy above Orleans, to meet Dunois who had come so far to
meet her. It will be seen by the conversation which she held with him
on his first appearance, how completely Jeanne had learnt to assert
herself, and how much she had overcome any fear of man. "Are you the
Bastard of Orleans?" she said. "I am; and glad of your coming," he
replied. "Is it you who have had me led to this side of the river and
not to the bank on which Talbot is and his English?" He answered that
he and the wisest of the leaders had thought it the best and safest
way. "The counsel of God, our Lord, is more sure and more powerful than
yours," she replied. The expedition, as a matter of fact, had to turn
back, and to lose precious time, there being, it is to be presumed,
no means of transporting so large a force across the river. The large
convoy of provisions which Jeanne brought was embarked in boats while
the majority of the army returned to Blois, in order to cross by the
bridge.

Jeanne, however, having freely expressed her opinion, adapted herself to
the circumstances, though extremely averse to separate herself from her
soldiers, good men who had confessed and prepared their souls for every
emergency. She finally consented, however, to ride on with Dunois and La
Hire. The wind was against the convoy, so that the heavy boats, deeply
laden with beeves and corn, had a dangerous and slow voyage before them.
"Have patience," cried Jeanne; "by the help of God all will go well";
and immediately the wind changed, to the astonishment and joy of all,
and the boats arrived in safety "in spite of the English, who offered no
hindrance whatever," as she had predicted. The little party made their
way along the bank, and in the twilight of the April evening, about
eight o'clock, entered Orleans. The Deliverer, it need not be said, was
hailed with joy indescribable. She was on a white horse, and carried,
Dunois says, the banner in her hand, though it was carried before her
when she entered the town. The white figure in the midst of those darkly
gleaming mailed men, would i