here,
that nothing could have withstood the elan of their attack; but the
Maid received her orders from a source we knew not of, and fleshly
pride never tempted her to swerve from the appointed path. She
smiled at the enthusiasm of the men, but she shook her head gently
and firmly.

"Do my bidding, my children, confess yourselves and pray till set
of sun. Then I will come to you and set you your appointed tasks,
and tomorrow I will lead you into the city!"

That night there was no sleep for the Maid or for her soldiers. At
no time was it dark, for midsummer was over the land, and the moon
hung in the sky like a silver lamp when the sun had set. The Maid
came forth as she had said with the last of the daylight, and at
her command a great mound was speedily raised, of earth, brushwood,
faggots, stones--anything that the soldiers could lay hands upon;
and when this hillock was of height sufficient to satisfy the young
General, the great guns were brought and set upon it in such
masterly fashion, and in such a commanding way, that La Hire,
Dunois and Xantrailles, who came to see, marvelled at it, and we
could note from the top of this earthwork that within the city
great commotion reigned, and that it was as busy as a hive that has
been disturbed.

As the first mystic glow of the summer's dawn kindled in the
eastern sky, the Maid stood, a white luminous figure in full
armour, poised lightly on the top of one of our pieces of ordnance,
her drawn sword in her hand, pointing full in the direction of the
city.

I have heard since from those within that the anxious garrison and
citizens saw this motionless figure, and cried aloud in terror and
awe. To them it seemed as though St. Michael himself had come down
to fight against them, and terror stricken they ran to the
governors of the city and implored that surrender might be made,
ere the heavens opened and rained lightnings down upon them.

And thus it came about that ere the dawn had fairly come, an
embassy was sent to the King and terms of surrender offered. The
King, from motives of policy or fear, the Maid, from pity and
generosity, accepted the messengers graciously, and granted the
garrison leave to depart with their horses and their arms, if the
town were peacefully given up; and thus it came about that after
the King had finished his night's slumber, and the Maid had done
her gracious part in redeeming and releasing the French prisoners,
which, but for her, wou