of her troops, her silver helmet
shining, her silvery cape fluttering in the wind, her white plumes
flowing, her sword held aloft; saw her charge the Burgundian camp three
times, and carry it; saw her wheel to the right and spur for the duke's
reserves; saw her fling herself against it in the last assault she was
ever to make. And now that fatal day was come again--and see what it was
bringing!

19 Our Last Hopes of Rescue Fail

JOAN HAD been adjudged guilty of heresy, sorcery, and all the other
terrible crimes set forth in the Twelve Articles, and her life was in
Cauchon's hands at last. He could send her to the stake at once. His
work was finished now, you think? He was satisfied? Not at all. What
would his Archbishopric be worth if the people should get the idea into
their heads that this faction of interested priests, slaving under the
English lash, had wrongly condemned and burned Joan of Arc, Deliverer
of France? That would be to make of her a holy martyr. Then her spirit
would rise from her body's ashes, a thousandfold reinforced, and sweep
the English domination into the sea, and Cauchon along with it. No,
the victory was not complete yet. Joan's guilt must be established by
evidence which would satisfy the people. Where was that evidence to be
found? There was only one person in the world who could furnish it--Joan
of Arc herself. She must condemn herself, and in public--at least she
must seem to do it.

But how was this to be managed? Weeks had been spent already in trying
to get her to surrender--time wholly wasted; what was to persuade her
now? Torture had been threatened, the fire had been threatened; what was
left? Illness, deadly fatigue, and the sight of the fire, the presence
of the fire! That was left.

Now that was a shrewd thought. She was but a girl after all, and, under
illness and exhaustion, subject to a girl's weaknesses.

Yes, it was shrewdly thought. She had tacitly said herself that under
the bitter pains of the rack they would be able to extort a false
confession from her. It was a hint worth remembering, and it was
remembered.

She had furnished another hint at the same time: that as soon as the
pains were gone, she would retract the confession. That hint was also
remembered.

She had herself taught them what to do, you see. First, they must wear
out her strength, then frighten her with the fire. Second, while the
fright was on her, she must be made to sign a paper.

But s