ughter among the citizens of both
parties, for they all hated the Bishop. It is true, the English-hearted
majority of the people wanted Joan burned, but that did not keep them
from laughing at the man they hated. It would have been perilous for
anybody to laugh at the English chiefs or at the majority of Cauchon's
assistant judges, but to laugh at Cauchon or D'Estivet and Loyseleur was
safe--nobody would report it.

The difference between Cauchon and cochon (1) was not noticeable
in speech, and so there was plenty of opportunity for puns; the
opportunities were not thrown away.

Some of the jokes got well worn in the course of two or three months,
from repeated use; for every time Cauchon started a new trial the folk
said "The sow has littered (2) again"; and every time the trial failed
they said it over again, with its other meaning, "The hog has made a
mess of it."

And so, on the third of May, Noel and I, drifting about the town, heard
many a wide-mouthed lout let go his joke and his laugh, and then move
to the next group, proud of his wit and happy, to work it off again:

"'Od's blood, the sow has littered five times, and five times has made a
mess of it!"

And now and then one was bold enough to say--but he said it softly:

"Sixty-three and the might of England against a girl, and she camps on
the field five times!"

Cauchon lived in the great palace of the Archbishop, and it was guarded
by English soldiery; but no matter, there was never a dark night but the
walls showed next morning that the rude joker had been there with his
paint and brush. Yes, he had been there, and had smeared the sacred walls
with pictures of hogs in all attitudes except flattering ones;
hogs clothed in a Bishop's vestments and wearing a Bishop's miter
irreverently cocked on the side of their heads.

Cauchon raged and cursed over his defeats and his impotence during seven
says; then he conceived a new scheme. You shall see what it was; for you
have not cruel hearts, and you would never guess it.

On the ninth of May there was a summons, and Manchon and I got out
materials together and started. But this time we were to go to one of
the other towers--not the one which was Joan's prison. It was round and
grim and massive, and built of the plainest and thickest and solidest
masonry--a dismal and forbidding structure. (3) We entered the circular
room on the ground floor, and I saw what turned me sick--the instruments
of torture and th