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Updated: May 12, 2025
Denis where they arrived on the 27th: St. Denis, the other sacred town of France, the place of the tomb, as Rheims was the place of the crown. The royalty of France was Jeanne's passion. I do not say the King, which might be capable of malinterpretation, but the kings, the monarchy, the anointed of the Lord, by whom France was represented, embodied and made into a living thing.
Moreover, among the multitudes who saw her during her cruel trial, it is not likely that none were acquainted with the true Jeanne's voice and features. We must therefore conclude that Jeanne d'Arc was really consigned to the tender mercies of the English. About the 21st of November she was taken on horseback, strongly guarded, from Cotoy to Rouen, where the trial began January 9, 1431.
Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of mingled curiosity and respect. "How do you know it will come true?" she said. Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own, had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her head, "I know, Mademoiselle, and that is all I can say.
Not till the riders were fairly out of sight did Victor venture to turn his face toward Jeanne's. Then, bursting into a loud laugh, he clapped Jeanne on the shoulder, and said: "We'll see thee grandmother of thy husband's grandchildren yet, Jeanne. Ha! ha!" Jeanne flushed. She was not without a sense of shame. Her love for Victorine made her sensitive to the stain on her birth.
"We got home together that morning they carried you off. He went to Aunt Jeanne's and I went home. When Krok burst in with the news about you, I hurried across to Brecqhou. On the shore of the bay was a boat, and in it Helier lay dead with a bullet through his head." "Oh, Phil!" in a voice of anguish, for Helier had been her favourite.... "And who ?" "Those who took you without doubt."
The examination then began with the usual formalities. Here she was asked, a curious interruption to the formal interrogatory, to say the Pater Noster the reason of which sudden demand was that witches and sorcerers were supposed to be unable to repeat that prayer. As unexpected as the question was Jeanne's reply.
"No! don't open that," cried Jeanne, excitedly. And with a frightened look, she added: "What if he were behind the door?" At the same moment, as if Jeanne's voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a heavy step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open the bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.
She turned slowly from the window and came near the fire. "If I did catch cold, it would not be bad," she said. "I would stay in bed, and you, Marcelline, would make me nice things to eat, and nobody would say, 'Don't do that, Mademoiselle. It would be charming." Marcelline was Jeanne's old nurse, and she had been her mother's nurse too.
Then she slowly raised her eyes to his, and in that look he read her answer. The baron went into Jeanne's room before she was up one morning soon after the christening of the boat, and sat down at the foot of the bed. "M. le Vicomte de Lamare has proposed for you," he said. Jeanne would have liked to hide her head under the bed-clothes.
Without the poor to help the poor the poor would not be able to live, and this old woman lived by the work of Jeanne's hands for many a year, Jeanne going every morning to the market-place to find some humble employment, finding it sometimes, returning at other times desperate, but concealing her despair from her bedridden companion, telling her as gaily as might be that they would have to do without any dinner that day.
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