t came down, he said those two words, "For France!" and a splintered
helmet flew like eggshells, and the skull that carried it had learned
its manners and would offend the French no more. He piled a bulwark of
iron-clad dead in front of him and fought from behind it; and at last
when the victory was ours we closed about him, shielding him, and he ran
up a ladder with Joan as easily as another man would carry a child, and
bore her out of the battle, a great crowd following and anxious, for she
was drenched with blood to her feet, half of it her own and the other
half English, for bodies had fallen across her as she lay and had poured
their red life-streams over her. One couldn't see the white armor now,
with that awful dressing over it.

The iron bolt was still in the wound--some say it projected out behind
the shoulder. It may be--I did not wish to see, and did not try to. It
was pulled out, and the pain made Joan cry again, poor thing. Some say
she pulled it out herself because others refused, saying they could not
bear to hurt her. As to this I do not know; I only know it was pulled
out, and that the wound was treated with oil and properly dressed.

Joan lay on the grass, weak and suffering, hour after hour, but still
insisting that the fight go on. Which it did, but not to much purpose,
for it was only under her eye that men were heroes and not afraid. They
were like the Paladin; I think he was afraid of his shadow--I mean in the
afternoon, when it was very big and long; but when he was under Joan's
eye and the inspiration of her great spirit, what was he afraid of?
Nothing in this world--and that is just the truth.

Toward night Dunois gave it up. Joan heard the bugles.

"What!" she cried. "Sounding the retreat!"

Her wound was forgotten in a moment. She countermanded the order, and
sent another, to the officer in command of a battery, to stand ready to
fire five shots in quick succession. This was a signal to the force on
the Orleans side of the river under La Hire, who was not, as some of
the histories say, with us. It was to be given whenever Joan should feel
sure the boulevard was about to fall into her hands--then that force must
make a counter-attack on the Tourelles by way of the bridge.

Joan mounted her horse now, with her staff about her, and when our
people saw us coming they raised a great shout, and were at once eager
for another assault on the boulevard. Joan rode straight to the fosse
where she h