uaves to fight for their country, just as they forced the Duc de
Chartres to draw his sword and risk his life for France as 'Robert
Lefort.' These puerilities really almost disarm contempt into
compassion. At Patay in 1870 the Zouaves saw three of their officers,
all of one family, struck down in succession, two of them to death, as
they advanced on the lines of the enemy, bearing a banner of the
Sacre-Coeur, which had been presented to General de Charette by some
nuns of Brittany only a few days before the battle. The banner, now at
Domremy, is a votive offering of General de Charette and his Zouaves in
commemoration of the field on which they were permitted thus, after four
centuries, to link the piety and the patriotic valour of modern France
with the deathless traditions of Domremy, of Orleans, and of Reims.

This little museum contains, too, a picture given by an Englishman, of
Jeanne binding up the wounds of an English soldier after the repulse of
one of the English attacks. The soil has risen about the house of
Jeanne, and this may have made the interior seem more gloomy than it
once was. But the house is well and solidly built, and if it may be
thought a fair specimen of the abodes of the well-to-do peasantry of
Lorraine in the fifteenth century, they were as well lodged relatively
to the general average of people at that time as those of the same class
in Eastern France now on the average appear to be. Charles de Lys in the
early seventeenth century seems to have been a man of note and
substance. But the parents of Jeanne were simply peasant proprietors. At
the entrance of the village church there is a statue of Jeanne, the work
of a native artist, in which she appears kneeling in her peasant's
dress, one hand pressed upon her heart and the other lifted towards
Heaven. And in a little clump of fir-trees near her house stands a sort
of monumental fountain, surmounted by a bust of the Pucelle. The house
itself remained in the possession of the last descendant of the family,
a soldier of the Empire named Gerardin, down to the time of the
Restoration. Some Englishman, it is said, then offered him a handsome
price for the cottage, with the object of moving it across the Channel,
as an enterprising countryman of mine once proposed to carry off the
house of Shakespeare to America. Gerardin, though a poor man, or perhaps
because he was a poor man, refused. The department thereupon bought the
house, the King gave Gerardi