phecy runs thus," answered
Bertrand, rising and crossing over towards the great fire before
which his kinsman sat, "'That France should be destroyed by the
wiles of a woman, and saved and redeemed by a maiden.'"

The bushy brows met in a fierce scowl over the burning eyes; his
words came in a great burst of indignation and scorn.

"Ay, truly--he spake truly--the wise man--the wizard! A woman to be
the ruin of the kingdom! Ay, verily, and has it not been so? Who
but that wicked Queen Isabeau is at the bottom of the disgraceful
Treaty of Troyes, wherein France sold herself into the hands of the
English? Did she not repudiate her own son? Did not her hatred burn
so fiercely against him that she was ready to tarnish her own good
fame and declare him illegitimate, rather than that he should
succeed his father as King of France? Did she not give her daughter
to the English King in wedlock, that their child might reign over
this fair realm? Truly has the kingdom been destroyed by the wiles
of a woman! But I vow it will take more than the strength of any
maiden to save and redeem it from the woes beneath which it lies
crushed!"

"In sooth it doth seem so," answered Bertrand with grave and
earnest countenance, "but yet with the good God nothing is
impossible. Hath He not said before this that He doth take of the
mean and humble to confound the great of the earth? Did not the
three hundred with Gideon overcome the hosts of the Moabites? Did
not the cake of barley bread overturn the tent and the camp of the
foe?"

"Ay, if the good God will arise to work miracles again, such things
might be; but how can we look for Him to do so? What manner of man
is the Dauphin of France that he should look for divine
deliverance? 'God helps those who help themselves,' so says the
proverb; but what of those who lie sunk in lethargy or despair, and
seek to drown thought or care in folly and riotous living--heedless
of the ruin of the realm?"

"There is another proverb, good mine uncle, that tells how man's
extremity is God's opportunity," quoth Bertrand thoughtfully; "if
we did judge of God's mercy by man's worthiness to receive the
same, we might well sink in despair. But His power and His goodness
are not limited by our infirmities, and therein alone lies our
hope."

De Baudricourt uttered a sound between a snort and a grunt. I knew
not what he thought of Bertrand's answer; but that brief dialogue
aroused within me afresh the desire I h