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Updated: May 2, 2025
No, I will give them to you honestly, detail by detail, just as Manchon and I set them down daily in the official record of the court, and just as one may read them in the printed histories.
In this strange, brief, subdued manner is the formal record made. Manchon writes on his margin: At the end of the sentence Jeanne, fearing the fire, said she would obey the Church.
I wonder your mamma likes Manchon if he has such an unkind dis I can't remember the word, it means feelings, you know." "Never mind," said Rosy, patronisingly, "I know what you mean. Oh, its only me Manchon's nasty to, and that doesn't matter. I'm not the favourite. I was at my aunty's though, that I was but it has all come true what Nelson told me," and she shook her head dolefully.
He used to snarl if ever I touched him, and to-day when I said 'I'm going to take you to Bee, Manchon, he let me take him as good as good." But that evening brought still better company for Bee. She went to sleep early, and she slept well, and when she woke in the morning who do you think was standing beside her?
I knew, and Manchon knew; and if she had known how to read writing we could have hoped to get the knowledge to her somehow; but speech was the only way, and none was allowed to approach her near enough for that. So there she sat, once more Joan of Arc the Victorious, but all unconscious of it.
Evidently Cauchon had grown afraid of Manchon because of his pretty apparent leanings toward Joan, for another recorder was in the chief place here, which left my master and me nothing to do but sit idle and look on. Well, I suppose that everything had been done which could be thought of to tire Joan's body and mind, but it was a mistake; one more device had been invented.
And there were other clamors the clatter of rushing feet, merry congratulations, bursts of coarse laughter, the rolling of drums, the boom and crash of distant bands profaning the sacred day with the music of victory and thanksgiving. About the middle of the afternoon came a summons for Manchon and me to go to Joan's dungeon a summons from Cauchon.
I attended Manchon constantly straight along, out of January and into February, and was often in the citadel with him in the very fortress where Joan was imprisoned, though not in the dungeon where she was confined, and so did not see her, of course. Manchon told me everything that had been happening before my coming.
It was a strange position for me clerk to the recorder and dangerous if my sympathies and the late employment should be found out. But there was not much danger. Manchon was at bottom friendly to Joan and would not betray me; and my name would not, for I had discarded my surname and retained only my given one, like a person of low degree.
And Manchon was on the rug as usual, quite peacefully inclined, poor thing, only Rosy could never believe any good of Manchon, and when he purred, or, as she called it, "froo'ed," she at once thought he was mocking her. She really seemed to fancy the cat was a fairy or a wizard of some kind, for she often gave him the credit of reading her very thoughts!
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