a few days. Order your
affairs, for you will be absent long."

"Will Jean and Pierre go with me?"

"No; they would refuse now, but presently they will come, and with them
they will bring my parents' blessing, and likewise their consent that I
take up my mission. I shall be stronger, then--stronger for that; for
lack of it I am weak now." She paused a little while, and the tears
gathered in her eyes; then she went on: "I would say good-by to Little
Mengette. Bring her outside the village at dawn; she must go with me a
little of the way--"

"And Haumette?"

She broke down and began to cry, saying:

"No, oh, no--she is too dear to me, I could not bear it, knowing I should
never look upon her face again."

Next morning I brought Mengette, and we four walked along the road in the
cold dawn till the village was far behind; then the two girls said their
good-bys, clinging about each other's neck, and pouring out their grief
in loving words and tears, a pitiful sight to see. And Joan took one long
look back upon the distant village, and the Fairy Tree, and the oak
forest, and the flowery plain, and the river, as if she was trying to
print these scenes on her memory so that they would abide there always
and not fade, for she knew she would not see them any more in this life;
then she turned, and went from us, sobbing bitterly. It was her birthday
and mine. She was seventeen years old.

Chapter 2 The Governor Speeds Joan

After a few days, Laxart took Joan to Vaucouleurs, and found lodging and
guardianship for her with Catherine Royer, a wheelwright's wife, an
honest and good woman. Joan went to mass regularly, she helped do the
housework, earning her keep in that way, and if any wished to talk with
her about her mission--and many did--she talked freely, making no
concealments regarding the matter now. I was soon housed near by, and
witnessed the effects which followed. At once the tidings spread that a
young girl was come who was appointed of God to save France. The common
people flocked in crowds to look at her and speak with her, and her fair
young loveliness won the half of their belief, and her deep earnestness
and transparent sincerity won the other half. The well-to-do remained
away and scoffed, but that is their way.

Next, a prophecy of Merlin's, more than eight hundred years old, was
called to mind, which said that in a far future time France would be lost
by a woman and restored by a woman. France was