d arrows. Her clear
glance never quailed; her sweet voice never faltered; she had
thought for everyone but herself. Again and again with her own
hands she snatched some follower from a danger unseen by him, but
which a moment later would have been his death. She herself stood
unmoved in the awful tumult. She even smiled when Dunois and La
Hire would have drawn her from the hottest of the fighting.

"No, no, my friends, my place is here. Have no fear. I shall not
suffer. I have guardians watching over me that you wot not of."

And so she stood unmoved at the foot of the tower, till the
English, overcome with amaze, gave up the defence, and fled from a
place they believed must surely be bewitched.

And as the last of the sunlight faded from the sky, the fortress of
St. Loup was ours. The Maid had fought her first battle, and had
triumphed.

CHAPTER XI. HOW THE MAID BORE TRIUMPH AND TROUBLE.

The people of Orleans, and we her knights and followers, were
well-nigh wild with joy. I do not think I had ever doubted how she
would bear herself in battle; and yet my heart had sometimes
trembled at the thought of it. For, after all, speaking humanly,
she was but a girl, a gentle maid, loving and tender-hearted, to
whom the sight of suffering was always a sorrow and a pain. And to
picture a young girl, who had perhaps never seen blows struck in
anger in her life--save perchance in some village brawl--suddenly
set in the midst of a battle, arms clashing, blood flowing, all the
hideous din of warfare around her, exposed to all its fearful risks
and perils--was it strange we should ask ourselves how she would
bear it? Was it wonderful that her confidence and calmness and
steadfast courage under the trial should convince us, as never
perhaps we had been convinced before, of the nearness of those
supernatural beings who guarded her so closely, who warned her of
danger, who inspired her with courage, and yet never robbed her for
one moment of the grace and beauty and crown of her pure womanhood?

And so, whilst we were well-nigh mad with joy and triumph, whilst
joy bells pealed from the city, and the soldiers and citizens were
ready to do her homage as a veritable saint from heaven, she was
just her own quiet, thoughtful, retiring self. She put aside the
plaudits of the Generals; she hushed the excited shouting of the
soldiers. She exercised her authority to check and stop the
carnage, to insist that quarter should be given