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"Rosalie, my lass!" cried Jeanne, throwing her arms round the woman's neck and kissing her; and, clasped in each other's arms they mingled their tears and sobs together. Rosalie dried her eyes the first. "Come now," she said, "you must be good and not catch cold."
The next morning, Tuesday after Trinity Sunday, the witnesses hurried with their news to the quickly summoned assembly in the chapel of the Archbishop's house; thirty-three of the judges, having been hastily called together, were there to hear. Jeanne had relapsed; the sinner escaped had been re-caught; and what was now to be done? One by one each man rose again and gave his verdict.
But almost before he had time to think the wish, what he saw before him so absorbed his attention that he forgot everything else. It was a long, long passage, high in the roof, though narrow of course in comparison with its length, but wide enough for Hugh for Hugh and Jeanne hand-in-hand even to walk along with perfect comfort and great satisfaction, for oh, it was so prettily lighted up!
She made a supreme effort. "I won't, Serge!" she stammered. "Have mercy!" Tears of shame rolled down her face. "No! you belong to me. The other, your husband, stole you from me. I take you back. I love you!" The young woman fell on a seat. Serge repeated, "I love you! I love you! I love you!" A fearful longing took possession of Jeanne. She no longer pushed away the arms which clasped her.
Jeanne seemed unconscious of everything; she was waiting until she should be alone. When he had dined, Julien came upstairs again and asked for the second time: "Won't you have something to eat?" His wife shook her head, and he sat down looking more resigned than sad, and did not say anything more.
Something, of course, had detained Percy; perhaps he had been unable to get definite information about Jeanne; perhaps the information which he had obtained was too terrible to communicate.
"In God's name," she cried in anger, "you deceive yourselves, not me, for I bring you more certain aid than ever before was brought to a town or city. It is the aid of the King of Heaven," and in truth the way that the captains had chosen in their timidity was more dangerous and uncertain than the one that Jeanne had chosen.
Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A thousand ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without being overcome." "Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned," murmured Cayrol, "and worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me, happy through me, and belonging to me." Then, ardently supplicating her, he added: "Let us go, Jeanne!"
Then she went in, and kissing Victorine, said: "Eat thy supper now, and go to bed; it is late. Good-night. I'll wake thee early enough in the morning to pay for not having called thee this afternoon. Good-night." Then Jeanne went down to her own room, blew out her candle, and seated herself at the window to hear what would happen.
Asked respecting Soissons, when the captain had surrendered the town, whether she had not cursed God, and said that if she had gotten hold of the captain, she would have cut him into four pieces; she answered, that she never swore by any saint, and that those who said so had not understood her. At this point the public trial of Jeanne came to a sudden end.
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