her favor, together with the strong
faith which the masses reposed in her; for the people remembered the old
prophecy and believed that the maiden had come to deliver France.

Even the doctors of theology were affected by this prophecy, and the
result was the final equipment of Joan for battle. When arrayed in a
knight's armor she refused to accept a sword. "The voices told me," she
said, "that in the church vault at Fierbois there lies a sword marked
with five crosses which I must carry, and no other."

A messenger was sent, who found the sword exactly as she had described
it. This naturally swelled the faith of the people in her divine
mission. She ordered a white banner made, covered with the lilies of
France, and with the inscription, "Jesus Maria," emblazoned upon it. At
the end of two months she entered the town of Blois, where the army was
stationed, seated upon a fine horse, her head bare, her dark curls
streaming in the wind, an air of triumph and joy on her face. Six
thousand soldiers were drawn up to receive her. But the pleasure-loving
young dauphin, be it said to his shame, was enjoying himself in his
castle and was not there to meet her. Nothing had yet been decided about
the position Joan was to occupy, but the wild enthusiasm of the army at
once made her its leader.

The very first act of this pure being was an attempt to uplift the moral
status of the army. Women of evil repute were sent away with good
advice, and the men were called to battle by prayer and confession.
Coarse soldiers followed her to mass, fascinated by her peculiar spell,
and rough language was silenced in her presence. Remarkable as has
seemed Joan's career up to this point, it was simple compared to the
miracles which ensued. Modest as the simplest maiden in private life,
gentle as a child in all matters pertaining to herself, utterly devoid
of self-seeking interests, she was yet enabled to plan campaigns, direct
attacks and lead armies with all the skill of any world-renowned
general. In the dead of night, with a band of 200 men, she entered the
beleaguered city of Orleans in the face of the English enemy. The
inhabitants crowded about her, regarding her rightly with wonder and
awe. Her first act was to hasten to a cathedral where the Te Deum was
being chanted by torch-light. She then selected her home with a lady of
spotless reputation, in order that all her hours of repose might be
guarded from suspicions of evil. The following