duty, and that was sufficient; the consequences
were not her affair. The last thing she said that time was full of this
serenity, full of contented repose:

"I am a good Christian born and baptized, and a good Christian I will
die."

15 Undaunted by Threat of Burning

TWO WEEKS went by; the second of May was come, the chill was departed
out of the air, the wild flowers were springing in the glades and
glens, the birds were piping in the woods, all nature was brilliant with
sunshine, all spirits were renewed and refreshed, all hearts glad,
the world was alive with hope and cheer, the plain beyond the Seine
stretched away soft and rich and green, the river was limpid and
lovely, the leafy islands were dainty to see, and flung still daintier
reflections of themselves upon the shining water; and from the tall
bluffs above the bridge Rouen was become again a delight to the eye, the
most exquisite and satisfying picture of a town that nestles under the
arch of heaven anywhere.

When I say that all hearts were glad and hopeful, I mean it in a general
sense. There were exceptions--we who were the friends of Joan of Arc,
also Joan of Arc herself, that poor girl shut up there in that frowning
stretch of mighty walls and towers: brooding in darkness, so close to
the flooding downpour of sunshine yet so impossibly far away from it;
so longing for any little glimpse of it, yet so implacably denied it
by those wolves in the black gowns who were plotting her death and the
blackening of her good name.

Cauchon was ready to go on with his miserable work. He had a new scheme
to try now. He would see what persuasion could do--argument, eloquence,
poured out upon the incorrigible captive from the mouth of a trained
expert. That was his plan. But the reading of the Twelve Articles to
her was not a part of it. No, even Cauchon was ashamed to lay that
monstrosity before her; even he had a remnant of shame in him, away down
deep, a million fathoms deep, and that remnant asserted itself now and
prevailed.

On this fair second of May, then, the black company gathered itself
together in the spacious chamber at the end of the great hall of the
castle--the Bishop of Beauvais on his throne, and sixty-two minor judges
massed before him, with the guards and recorders at their stations and
the orator at his desk.

Then we heard the far clank of chains, and presently Joan entered with
her keepers and took her seat upon her isolated bench.