head, and
that she sat up to enjoy that delicious music of homage and applause? No;
another girl would have done that, but not this one. That was the
greatest heart and the simplest that ever beat. She went straight to bed
and to sleep, like any tired child; and when the people found she was
wounded and would rest, they shut off all passage and traffic in that
region and stood guard themselves the whole night through, to see that he
slumbers were not disturbed. They said, "She has given us peace, she
shall have peace herself."

All knew that that region would be empty of English next day, and all
said that neither the present citizens nor their posterity would ever
cease to hold that day sacred to the memory of Joan of Arc. That word has
been true for more than sixty years; it will continue so always. Orleans
will never forget the 8th of May, nor ever fail to celebrate it. It is
Joan of Arc's day--and holy. [1]

[1] It is still celebrated every year with civic and military pomps and
solemnities. -- TRANSLATOR.

Chapter 23 Joan Inspires the Tawdry King

IN THE earliest dawn of morning, Talbot and his English forces evacuated
their bastilles and marched away, not stopping to burn, destroy, or carry
off anything, but leaving their fortresses just as they were,
provisioned, armed, and equipped for a long siege. It was difficult for
the people to believe that this great thing had really happened; that
they were actually free once more, and might go and come through any gate
they pleased, with none to molest or forbid; that the terrible Talbot,
that scourge of the French, that man whose mere name had been able to
annul the effectiveness of French armies, was gone, vanished,
retreating--driven away by a girl.

The city emptied itself. Out of every gate the crowds poured. They
swarmed about the English bastilles like an invasion of ants, but noisier
than those creatures, and carried off the artillery and stores, then
turned all those dozen fortresses into monster bonfires, imitation
volcanoes whose lofty columns of thick smoke seemed supporting the arch
of the sky.

The delight of the children took another form. To some of the younger
ones seven months was a sort of lifetime. They had forgotten what grass
was like, and the velvety green meadows seemed paradise to their
surprised and happy eyes after the long habit of seeing nothing but dirty
lanes and streets. It was a wonder to them--those spacious reaches of
ope