ter city? But she had never led them in the open
field; and how could they expect to meet and triumph over the
English, who had always vanquished them heretofore?

We knew not where the foe lay; all we knew was that it was
somewhere close at hand; and so strong grew the fear in the hearts
of Alencon and many others, that they begged the Maid to fall back
upon the camp at Beaugency, and to wait there for further
reinforcements. But she shook her head with decision.

"Let us find them first, and then ride boldly at them. Be not
afraid; they will not stand. My Lord will give us the victory!"

And how did we come upon them at last? Verily, by a mere accident.
We were marching in good order towards the great plain of Beauce,
which at this time of the year was so thickly overgrown with
vineyards and cornfields that we saw nothing of any lurking foe;
and I trow that we were not seen of them, although a great host was
lying at ease in the noontide heat, watching for our coming, I
doubt not; but not yet drawn up in battle array.

A stag, frightened by our approach, broke from the thicket, and
went thundering across the plain. All at once a shower of arrows
let loose from English bows followed the creature's flight,
together with eager shouts and laughter, betraying the presence of
the unsuspecting foe.

With a lightning swiftness the Maid grasped the whole situation.
Here was an army, waiting to fight, it is true, but for the moment
off its guard. Here were we, in order of march. One word from her,
and our whole force would charge straight upon the foe!

And was that word lacking? Was there an instant's hesitation? Need
such a question be asked of the Maid? Clear and sweet rose her
wonderful voice, thrilling through the hot summer air.

"Forward, my children, forward, and fear not. Fly boldly upon them,
and the day shall be yours!"

She charged, herself, at the head of one column; but La Hire, in
the vanguard, was before her. With shouts of triumph and joy the
old veteran and his followers thundered into the very midst of the
startled English, and we followed in their wake.

The Duc d'Alencon rode beside the Maid. His face was pale with
excitement--perhaps with a touch of fear. He remembered the fight
at Agincourt, and the wound received there, the captivity and weary
waiting for release.

"How will it end, my General, how will it end?" he said, and I
heard his words and her reply, for I was riding close behind.