I know; but we don't require
quite that much, even of you; you shall have a month for it in place of a
day. Now be beguiled--wait and eat. There's a saying that he that would
cross a river twice in the same day in a boat, will do well to eat fish
for luck, lest he have an accident."

"That doesn't fit my case, for to-day I cross but once in a boat."

"Oh, don't say that. Aren't you coming back to us?"

"Yes, but not in a boat."

"How, then?"

"By the bridge."

"Listen to that--by the bridge! Now stop this jesting, dear General, and
do as I would have done you. It's a noble fish."

"Be good then, and save me some for supper; and I will bring one of those
Englishmen with me and he shall have his share."

"Ah, well, have your way if you must. But he that fasts must attempt but
little and stop early. When shall you be back?"

"When we've raised the siege of Orleans. FORWARD!"

We were off. The streets were full of citizens and of groups and squads
of soldiers, but the spectacle was melancholy. There was not a smile
anywhere, but only universal gloom. It was as if some vast calamity had
smitten all hope and cheer dead. We were not used to this, and were
astonished. But when they saw the Maid, there was an immediate stir, and
the eager question flew from mouth to mouth.

"Where is she going? Whither is she bound?"

Joan heard it, and called out:

"Whither would ye suppose? I am going to take the Tourelles."

It would not be possible for any to describe how those few words turned
that mourning into joy--into exaltation--into frenzy; and how a storm of
huzzas burst out and swept down the streets in every direction and woke
those corpse-like multitudes to vivid life and action and turmoil in a
moment. The soldiers broke from the crowd and came flocking to our
standard, and many of the citizens ran and got pikes and halberds and
joined us. As we moved on, our numbers increased steadily, and the
hurrahing continued--yes, we moved through a solid cloud of noise, as you
may say, and all the windows on both sides contributed to it, for they
were filled with excited people.

You see, the council had closed the Burgundy gate and placed a strong
force there, under that stout soldier Raoul de Gaucourt, Bailly of
Orleans, with orders to prevent Joan from getting out and resuming the
attack on the Tourelles, and this shameful thing had plunged the city
into sorrow and despair. But that feeling was gone now. They believed