That this was
simply to gain time and that no idea of giving up Paris had ever been
entertained is evident; perhaps Charles was not even deceived. He, no
more than Philip, had any desire to encounter the dangers of such a
siege. But he was able at least to silence the clamours of the army and
the representations of the persistent Maid by this truce. To wait for
fifteen days and receive the prize without a blow struck, would not that
be best? The counsellors of the King held thus a strong position, though
the delay made the hearts of the warriors sick.

The figure of Jeanne appears during these marchings and
counter-marchings like that of any other general, pursuing a skilful but
not unusual plan of campaign. That she did well and bravely there can be
no doubt, and there is a characteristic touch which we recognise, in the
fact that she and all of her company "put themselves in the best
state of conscience that could be," before they took to horse; but the
skirmishes and repulses are such as Alencon himself might have made.
"She made much diligence," the same chronicler tells us, "to reduce and
place many towns in the obedience of the King," but so did many others
with like success. We hear no more her vigorous knock at the door of the
council chamber if the discussion there was too long or the proceedings
too secret. Her appearances are those of a general among many other
generals, no longer with any special certainty in her movements as of a
person inspired. We are reminded of a story told of a previous period,
after the fight at Patay, when blazing forth in the indignation of her
youthful purity at the sight of one of the camp followers, a degraded
woman with some soldiers, she struck the wanton with the flat of
her sword, driving her forth from the camp, where was no longer that
chastened army of awed and reverent soldiers making their confession on
the eve of every battle, whom she had led to Orleans. The sword she used
on this occasion, was, it is said, the miraculous sword which had been
found under the high altar of St. Catharine at Fierbois; but at the
touch of the unclean the maiden brand broke in two. If this was an
allegory(2) to show that the work of that weapon was over, and the
common sword of the soldier enough for the warfare that remained, it
could not be more clearly realised than in the history of this campaign.
The only touch of our real Maid in her own distinct person comes to
us in a letter writte