y, and on the 25th of February, 1429, he bade her farewell, and all
he said was, "Away then, Joan, and come what may."

Charles VII. was at that time residing at Chinon, in Touraine. In order
to get there Joan had nearly a hundred and fifty leagues to go, in a
country occupied here and there by English and Burgundians, and
everywhere a theatre of war. She took eleven days to do this journey,
often marching by night, never giving up man's dress, disquieted by no
difficulty and no danger, and testifying no desire for a halt save to
worship God. "Could we hear mass daily," said she to her comrades, "we
should do well." They only consented twice, first in the abbey of St.
Urban, and again in the principal church of Auxerre. As they were full
of respect, though at the same time also of doubt, towards Joan, she
never had to defend herself against their familiarities, but she had
constantly to dissipate their disquietude touching the reality or the
character of her mission. "Fear nothing," she said to them; "God shows
me the way I should go; for thereto was I born." On arriving at the
village of St. Catherine-de-Fierbois, near Chinon, she heard three masses
on the same day, and had a letter written thence to the king, to announce
her coming and to ask to see him; she had gone, she said, a hundred and
fifty leagues to come and tell him things which would be most useful to
him. Charles VII. and his councillors hesitated. The men of war did not
like to believe that a little peasant-girl of Lorraine was coming to
bring the king a more effectual support than their own. Nevertheless
some, and the most heroic amongst them,--Dunois, La Hire, and
Xaintrailles,--were moved by what was told of this young girl. The
letters of Sire de Baudricourt, though full of doubt, suffered a gleam of
something like a serious impression to peep out; and why should not the
king receive this young girl whom the captain of Vaucouleurs had thought
it a duty to send? It would soon be seen what she was and what she would
do. The politicians and courtiers, especially the most trusted of them,
George de la Tremoille, the king's favorite, shrugged their shoulders.
What could be expected from the dreams of a young peasant-girl of
nineteen? Influences of a more private character and more disposed
towards sympathy--Yolande of Arragon, for instance, Queen of Sicily and
mother-in-law of Charles VII., and perhaps, also, her daughter, the young
queen, Mar