A Heroine of France | Page 9

husband and the
children the good God should send them--like other wedded wives."
"Then has she indeed wedded?" asked Bertrand earnestly.
"Ah, that is another story!" answered our host, wagging his head and
spreading out his hands. "It would take too long were I to tell you all,
messires; but so much will I tell. They did find a man who had long
desired the pretty Jeanne for his wife, and he did forswear himself and
vow that he had been betrothed to Jeanne with her own free will and
consent, and that now he claimed her as his wife. Jeanne, whose
courage is high, though she be so quiet and modest in her daily life, did
vehemently deny the charge, whereupon the angry father and his friend,
the claimant of her hand, did bring it into the court, and the Maid had to
defend herself there from the accusation of broken faith. But by St.
Michael and all his angels!--how she did confound them all! She asked
no help from lawyers, though one did offer himself to her. She called
no witnesses herself; but she questioned the witnesses brought against
her, and also the man who would fain have become her lord, and out of
their own mouths did she convict them of lying and hypocrisy and
conspiracy, so that she was triumphantly acquitted, and her judges
called her a most wonderful child, and told her mother to be proud of
such a daughter!"
I saw a flush rise to Bertrand's cheek, a flush as of pride and joy. And
indeed, I myself rejoiced to hear the end of the tale; for it did seem as
though this maiden had been persecuted with rancour and injustice, and
that is a thing which no man can quietly endure to hear or see.
"And how have they of Domremy behaved themselves to her since?" I
asked; and Bertrand listened eagerly for the answer.
"Oh, they have taken her to favour once more; her father has been kind
again; her mother ever loved Jeanne much, for her gentleness and
beauty and helpfulness at home. All the people love her, when not

stirred to mockery by such fine pretensions. If she will remain quietly
at home like a wise and discreet maiden, no one will long remember
against her her foolish words and dreams."
As we rode through the fields and woodlands towards Domremy, the
light began to take the golden hue which it does upon the autumn
afternoon, and upon that day it shone with a wonderful radiance such as
is not uncommon after rain. We were later than we had meant, but there
would be a moon to light us when the sun sank, and both we and our
horses knew the roads well; or we could even sleep, if we were so
minded, at the auberge where we had dined. So we were in no haste or
hurry. We picked our way leisurely towards the village, and Bertrand
told me of the Fairy Well and the Fairy Tree in the forest hard by, so
beloved of the children of Domremy, and of which so much has been
heard of late, though at that time I knew nothing of any such things.
But fairy lore has ever a charm for me, and I bid him show me these
same things. So we turned a little aside into the forest, and found
ourselves in a lovely glade, where the light shone so soft and golden,
and where the songs of the birds sounded so sweet and melodious, that
I felt as though we were stepping through an enchanted world, and well
could I believe that the fairies danced around the well, sunk deep in its
mossy dell, and fringed about with ferns and flowers and the shade of
drooping trees.
But fairies there were none visible to our eyes, and we moved softly
onwards towards the spreading tree hard by. But ere we reached it, we
both drew rein as by a common impulse, for we had seen a sight which
arrested and held us spellbound, ay, and more than that, for the wonder
and amaze of it fell also upon the horses we bestrode. For scarcely had
we drawn rein, before they both began to tremble and to sweat, and
stood with their forefeet planted, their necks outstretched, their nostrils
distended; uttering short, gasping, snorting sounds, as a horse will do
when overcome by some terror. But for all this they were as rigid as if
they had been carved in stone.
And now, what did we see? Let me try and tell, so far as my poor
words may avail. Beneath a spreading tree just a stone's throw to the

right of where we stood, and with nothing between to hinder our