e ransom of a royal prince was 10,000
livres of gold, which is 61,125 francs--a fixed sum, you see. It must be
accepted when offered; it could not be refused.

Cauchon brought the offer of this very sum from the English--a royal
prince's ransom for the poor little peasant-girl of Domremy. It shows
in a striking way the English idea of her formidable importance. It was
accepted. For that sum Joan of Arc, the Savior of France, was sold; sold
to her enemies; to the enemies of her country; enemies who had lashed
and thrashed and thumped and trounced France for a century and made
holiday sport of it; enemies who had forgotten, years and years ago,
what a Frenchman's face was like, so used were they to seeing nothing
but his back; enemies whom she had whipped, whom she had cowed, whom she
had taught to respect French valor, new-born in her nation by the breath
of her spirit; enemies who hungered for her life as being the only
puissance able to stand between English triumph and French degradation.
Sold to a French priest by a French prince, with the French King and the
French nation standing thankless by and saying nothing.

And she--what did she say? Nothing. Not a reproach passed her lips. She
was too great for that--she was Joan of Arc; and when that is said, all
is said.

As a soldier, her record was spotless. She could not be called to
account for anything under that head. A subterfuge must be found, and,
as we have seen, was found. She must be tried by priests for crimes
against religion. If none could be discovered, some must be invented.
Let the miscreant Cauchon alone to contrive those.

Rouen was chosen as the scene of the trial. It was in the heart of the
English power; its population had been under English dominion so many
generations that they were hardly French now, save in language. The
place was strongly garrisoned. Joan was taken there near the end of
December, 1430, and flung into a dungeon. Yes, and clothed in chains,
that free spirit!

Still France made no move. How do I account for this? I think there is
only one way. You will remember that whenever Joan was not at the front,
the French held back and ventured nothing; that whenever she led, they
swept everything before them, so long as they could see her white
armor or her banner; that every time she fell wounded or was reported
killed--as at Compiegne--they broke in panic and fled like sheep. I
argue from this that they had undergone no real transfor