It seemed an over-nice distinction, but nobody said anything. If we had
known her as well as she knew herself, and as her later history revealed
her to us, we should have perceived that she had a clear meaning there,
and that her position was not identical with ours, as we were supposing,
but occupied a higher plane. She would sacrifice herself--and her best
self; that is, her truthfulness--to save her cause; but only that; she
would not buy her life at that cost; whereas our war-ethics permitted
the purchase of our lives, or any mere military advantage, small or
great, by deception. Her saying seemed a commonplace at the time, the
essence of its meaning escaping us; but one sees now that it contained a
principle which lifted it above that and made it great and fine.

Presently the wind died down, the sleet stopped falling, and the cold
was less severe. The road was become a bog, and the horses labored
through it at a walk--they could do no better. As the heavy time wore
on, exhaustion overcame us, and we slept in our saddles. Not even the
dangers that threatened us could keep us awake.

This tenth night seemed longer than any of the others, and of course
it was the hardest, because we had been accumulating fatigue from the
beginning, and had more of it on hand now than at any previous time.
But we were not molested again. When the dull dawn came at last we saw
a river before us and we knew it was the Loire; we entered the town of
Gien, and knew we were in a friendly land, with the hostiles all behind
us. That was a glad morning for us.

We were a worn and bedraggled and shabby-looking troop; and still, as
always, Joan was the freshest of us all, in both body and spirits. We
had averaged above thirteen leagues a night, by tortuous and wretched
roads. It was a remarkable march, and shows what men can do when they
have a leader with a determined purpose and a resolution that never
flags.

Chapter 5 We Pierce the Last Ambuscades

WE RESTED and otherwise refreshed ourselves two or three hours at Gien,
but by that time the news was abroad that the young girl commissioned
of God to deliver France was come; wherefore, such a press of people
flocked to our quarters to get sight of her that it seemed best to seek
a quieter place; so we pushed on and halted at a small village called
Fierbois.

We were now within six leagues of the King, who was at the Castle of
Chinon. Joan dictated a letter to him at once, and