holy
Saints. And see how they have helped and blessed and guided me! O
my father, can you doubt that I was sent of them for this work? How
then could I refuse to do it?"

Then the stern face seemed to melt with a repressed tenderness, and
the father bent and touched the girl's brow with his lips. She
uttered a little cry of joy, and would have flung herself into his
arms; but he held her a little off, his hands upon her shoulders,
and he looked into her face searchingly.

"That may have been well done, my daughter; I will not say, I will
not judge. But your task is now accomplished--your own lips have
said it; and yet you still are to march with the King's army, I am
told. You love better the clash of arms, the glory of victory, the
companionship of soldiers and courtiers to the simple duties which
await you at home, and the protection of your mother's love. That
is not well. That is what no modest maiden should choose. I had
hoped and believed that I should take my daughter home with me. But
she has chosen otherwise. Do I not well to be angry?"

The Maid's face was buried in her hands. She would have buried it
in her father's breast, but he would not have it so.

I could have wept tears myself at the sight of her sorrow. I saw
how utterly impossible it would be to make this sturdy peasant
understand the difficulty of the Maid's position, and the claims
upon her great abilities, her mysterious influence upon the
soldiers. The worthy prud'homme would look upon this as rather a
dishonour and disgrace than a gift from Heaven.

The words I longed to speak died away upon my tongue. I felt that
to speak them would be a waste of breath. Moreover, I was here as a
spectator, not as a partaker in this scene. I held the document,
signed and sealed by the King, which I was prepared to read to the
visitors from Domremy. That was to be my share in this interview--not
to interpose betwixt father and child.

For a few moments there was deep silence in the room; then the Maid
took her hands from her face, and she was calm and tranquil once
again. She possessed herself of one of her father's reluctant
hands.

"My father, I know that this thing is hard for you to understand.
It may be that my brothers could explain it better than I, had you
patience to hear them. But this I say, that I long with an
unspeakable desire to return home with you, for I know that the
path I must tread will darken about me, and that the end will be
s