, but with no horses
ready, and we burst out after Joan in a body, the Paladin in the lead
with the banner. The surging crowd was made up half of citizens and half
of soldiers, and had no recognized leader. When Joan was seen a huzza
went up, and she shouted:

"A horse--a horse!"

A dozen saddles were at her disposal in a moment. She mounted, a hundred
people shouting:

"Way, there--way for the MAID OF ORLEANS!" The first time that that
immortal name was ever uttered--and I, praise God, was there to hear it!
The mass divided itself like the waters of the Red Sea, and down this
lane Joan went skimming like a bird, crying, "Forward, French
hearts--follow me!" and we came winging in her wake on the rest of the
borrowed horses, the holy standard streaming above us, and the lane
closing together in our rear.

This was a different thing from the ghastly march past the dismal
bastilles. No, we felt fine, now, and all awhirl with enthusiasm. The
explanation of this sudden uprising was this. The city and the little
garrison, so long hopeless and afraid, had gone wild over Joan's coming,
and could no longer restrain their desire to get at the enemy; so,
without orders from anybody, a few hundred soldiers and citizens had
plunged out at the Burgundy gate on a sudden impulse and made a charge on
one of Lord Talbot's most formidable fortresses--St. Loup--and were
getting the worst of it. The news of this had swept through the city and
started this new crowd that we were with.

As we poured out at the gate we met a force bringing in the wounded from
the front. The sight moved Joan, and she said:

"Ah, French blood; it makes my hair rise to see it!"

We were soon on the field, soon in the midst of the turmoil. Joan was
seeing her first real battle, and so were we.

It was a battle in the open field; for the garrison of St. Loup had
sallied confidently out to meet the attack, being used to victories when
"witches" were not around. The sally had been reinforced by troops from
the "Paris" bastille, and when we approached the French were getting
whipped and were falling back. But when Joan came charging through the
disorder with her banner displayed, crying "Forward, men--follow me!"
there was a change; the French turned about and surged forward like a
solid wave of the sea, and swept the English before them, hacking and
slashing, and being hacked and slashed, in a way that was terrible to
see.

In the field the Dwarf had no a