one? Why, she has sent
for Satan himself--that is to say, La Hire--that military hurricane,
that godless swashbuckler, that lurid conflagration of blasphemy, that
Vesuvius of profanity, forever in eruption. Does he know how to deal
with that mob of roaring devils? Better than any man that lives; for
he is the head devil of this world his own self, he is the match of the
whole of them combined, and probably the father of most of them. She
places him in temporary command until she can get to Blois herself--and
then! Why, then she will certainly take them in hand personally, or I
don't know her as well as I ought to, after all these years of intimacy.
That will be a sight to see--that fair spirit in her white armor,
delivering her will to that muck-heap, that rag-pile, that abandoned
refuse of perdition."

"La Hire!" cried Noel, "our hero of all these years--I do want to see
that man!"

"I too. His name stirs me just as it did when I was a little boy."

"I want to hear him swear."

"Of course, I would rather hear him swear than another man pray. He is
the frankest man there is, and the naivest. Once when he was rebuked
for pillaging on his raids, he said it was nothing. Said he, 'If God
the Father were a soldier, He would rob.' I judge he is the right man to
take temporary charge there at Blois. Joan has cast the seeing eye upon
him, you see."

"Which brings us back to where we started. I have an honest affection
for the Paladin, and not merely because he is a good fellow, but because
he is my child--I made him what he is, the windiest blusterer and most
catholic liar in the kingdom. I'm glad of his luck, but I hadn't the
seeing eye. I shouldn't have chosen him for the most dangerous post in
the army. I should have placed him in the rear to kill the wounded and
violate the dead."

"Well, we shall see. Joan probably knows what is in him better than
we do. And I'll give you another idea. When a person in Joan of Arc's
position tells a man he is brave, he believes it; and believing it is
enough; in fact, to believe yourself brave is to be brave; it is the one
only essential thing."

"Now you've hit it!" cried Noel. "She's got the creating mouth as well
as the seeing eye! Ah, yes, that is the thing. France was cowed and a
coward; Joan of Arc has spoken, and France is marching, with her head
up!"

I was summoned now to write a letter from Joan's dictation. During the
next day and night our several uniforms were made