e to bid Robert de Baudricourt take or send me to the King, but
he does not heed my words."

"Ah, you have an admirable persistence, truly; a whole year has not
turned you from your wish. I saw you when you came before."

Joan said, as tranquilly as before:

"It is not a wish, it is a purpose. He will grant it. I can wait."

"Ah, perhaps it will not be wise to make too sure of that, my child.
These governors are stubborn people to deal with. In case he shall not
grant your prayer--"

"He will grant it. He must. It is not a matter of choice."

The gentleman's playful mood began to disappear--one could see that, by
his face. Joan's earnestness was affecting him. It always happened that
people who began in jest with her ended by being in earnest. They soon
began to perceive depths in her that they had not suspected; and then her
manifest sincerity and the rocklike steadfastness of her convictions were
forces which cowed levity, and it could not maintain its self-respect in
their presence. The Sieur de Metz was thoughtful for a moment or two,
then he began, quite soberly:

"Is it necessary that you go to the King soon?--that is, I mean--"

"Before Mid-Lent, even though I wear away my legs to the knees!"

She said it with that sort of repressed fieriness that means so much when
a person's heart is in a thing. You could see the response in that
nobleman's face; you could see his eye light up; there was sympathy
there. He said, most earnestly:

"God knows I think you should have the men-at-arms, and that somewhat
would come of it. What is it that you would do? What is your hope and
purpose?"

"To rescue France. And it is appointed that I shall do it. For no one
else in the world, neither kings, nor dukes, no any other, can recover
the kingdom of France, and there is no help but in me."

The words had a pleading and pathetic sound, and they touched that good
nobleman. I saw it plainly. Joan dropped her voice a little, and said:
"But indeed I would rather spin with my poor mother, for this is not my
calling; but I must go and do it, for it is my Lord's will."

"Who is your Lord?"

"He is God."

Then the Sieur de Metz, following the impressive old feudal fashion,
knelt and laid his hands within Joan's in sign of fealty, and made oath
that by God's help he himself would take her to the king.

The next day came the Sieur Bertrand de Poulengy, and he also pledged his
oath and knightly honor to abide with her and f