s put beyond doubt by the inscription upon his golden collar. I believe
Charlemagne knighted the stag; and, if ever he is met again by a king, he
ought to be made an earl--or, being upon the marches of France, a marquess.
Observe, I don't absolutely vouch for all these things: my own opinion
varies. On a fine breezy forenoon I am audaciously sceptical; but as
twilight sets in, my credulity becomes equal to anything that could be
desired. And I have heard candid sportsmen declare that, outside of these
very forests near the Vosges, they laughed loudly at all the dim tales
connected with their haunted solitudes; but, on reaching a spot notoriously
eighteen miles deep within them, they agreed with Sir Roger de Coverley
that a good deal might be said on both sides.

Such traditions, or any others that (like the stag) connect distant
generations with each other, are, for that cause, sublime; and the sense of
the shadowy, connected with such appearances that reveal themselves or not
according to circumstances, leaves a coloring of sanctity over ancient
forests, even in those minds that utterly reject the legend as a fact.

But, apart from all distinct stories of that order, in any solitary
frontier between two great empires, as here, for instance, or in the desert
between Syria and the Euphrates, there is an inevitable tendency, in minds
of any deep sensibility to people the solitudes with phantom images of
powers that were of old so vast. Joanna, therefore, in her quiet occupation
of a shepherdess, would be led continually to brood over the political
condition of her country, by the traditions of the past no less than by the
mementoes of the local present.

M. Michelet, indeed, says that La Pucelle was _not_ a shepherdess. I beg
his pardon: she _was_. What he rests upon, I guess pretty well: it is
the evidence of a woman called Haumette, the most confidential friend of
Joanna. Now, she is a good witness, and a good girl, and I like her; for
she makes a natural and affectionate report of Joanna's ordinary life. But
still, however good she may be as a witness, Joanna is better; and
she, when speaking to the Dauphin, calls herself in the Latin report
_Bergereta_. Even Haumette confesses that Joanna tended sheep in her
girlhood. And I believe, that, if Miss Haumette were taking coffee alone
with me this very evening (February 12, 1847)--in which there would be
no subject for scandal or for maiden blushes, because I am an intense