have flashed forth, and De Gaucourt would
have been a dead man had he sought to hinder us in the opening of
the gate. But the Maid read our purpose in our eyes and in our
gestures, and she stayed us by her lifted hand.

"Not so, my friends," she answered gravely, "but the Chevalier de
Gaucourt will himself order the opening of the gate. I have to ride
through it and at once. My Lord bids it!"

Her eyes flashed full and suddenly upon him. We saw him quiver from
head to foot. With his own hands he unlocked the gate, and it
seemed to swing of its own accord wide open before us. The Maid
bent her head in gracious acknowledgment, swept through and was off
to the river like a flash of white lightning.

The river lay golden in the glory of the morning. The boats which
had transported us across last night bore us bravely over now. I
know not how the Generals felt when they saw the Maid, a dazzling
vision of brightness, her great white standard close behind, her
phalanx of knights and gentlemen in attendance, gallop up to the
scene of action, from which they thought they had successfully
banished her. I only know that from the throats of the soldiers
there arose a deafening shout of welcome. They at least believed in
her. They looked to her as to none else. They would follow her
unwaveringly, when no other commander could make them budge.

A yell that rent the very firmament went up at sight of her, and
every man seized his arms and sprang to his post, as though
inspired by the very genius of victory.

"Courage, my children, forward! The day shall be ours!" she cried,
as she took her place at the head of the formidable charge against
the walls which frowned and bristled with the pikes and arrows of
the English. Her voice, like a silver clarion, rang clear through
the din of the furious battle which followed:

"Bon coeur, bonne esperance, mes enfants, the hour of victory is at
hand! De la part de Dieu! De la part de Dieu!"

That was her favourite battle cry! It was God who should give the
victory.

But it was no easy victory we were to win that day. The English
fought with the energy of despair. They knew as well as we that
when Les Tourelles fell the siege would be raised. True they had
their bastilles upon the north side of the river to fall back upon,
since the Maid's counsel of destruction had not been followed. But
once dislodged from the south bank, and Orleans would lie open to
the support of her friends in the