hung in heavy masses round her shoulders, giving to her
something of the look of a saintly warrior on painted window.

Later on, when she had to wear a headpiece, she cut off her long
curling locks, and then her hair just framed her face like a
nimbus; but today it was still hanging loose upon her shoulders,
and the laughing child had got his little hands well twisted in the
waving mass, upon which the midday sun was shining clear and
strong. She had risen, and was looking earnestly at De Baudricourt;
yet all the while she seemed to be, as it were, listening for other
sounds than those of his voice.

When he ceased she was silent for a brief while, and then spoke.

"I would fain it had been to the Dauphin you would send me,
Seigneur; but since that may not be yet, I will gladly go to the
Duke, if I may but turn aside to make my pilgrimage to the shrine
of St Nicholas, where I would say some prayers, and ask help."

"Visit as many shrines as you like, so as you visit the Duke as
well," answered De Baudricourt, who always spoke with a sort of
rough bluffness to the Maid, not unkindly, though it lacked
gentleness. But she never evinced fear of him, and for that he
respected her. She showed plenty of good sense whilst the details
of the journey were being arranged, and was in no wise abashed at
the prospect of appearing at a Court. How should she be, indeed,
who was looking forward with impatience to her appearance at the
Court of an uncrowned King?

Bertrand and I, with some half-dozen men-at-arms, were to form her
escort, and upon the very next day, the sun shining bright, and the
wind blowing fresh from the north over the wet lands, drying them
somewhat after the long rains, we set forth.

The Maid rode the horse which afterwards was to carry her so many
long, weary miles. He was a tall chestnut, deep in the chest,
strong in the flank, with a proudly arching neck, a great mane of
flowing hair, a haughty fashion of lifting his shapely feet, and an
eye that could be either mild or fierce, according to the fashion
in which he was treated. On his brow was a curious mark, something
like a cross in shape, and the colour of it was something deeper
than the chestnut of his coat. The Maid marked this sign at the
first glance, and she called the horse her Crusader. Methinks she
was cheered and pleased by the red cross she thus carried before
her, and she and her good steed formed one of those friendships
which are good to