And so it happened.

The arguments of the captains were most plausible. To denude the walls of their defenders, as the Maid and the citizens proposed, was to invite the enemy to "rush" the city during their absence: the risk was not one which it was reasonable for a garrison, not yet hard pressed, and expecting a strong relieving force, to take. Enthusiasm, however, required that the risk should be taken; and enthusiasm -helped by the weakness of the English forces carried the adventure to a triumphant issue. "Let those who love me follow me," Jeanne cried; and they all followed her.

She was wounded, as the angels had warned her that she would be. An arrow entered a joint in her armour and pierced her shoulderit is said that the pain made her cry. But she would not let the hurt be charmed, though she believed that charms were efficacious. "Better to die," she said, “ than to commit a sin, or do what is contrary to the will of God." So her wound was dressed, and presently she returned to the fray, cheering her men as before, promising them the victory, and calling on one of the English captains who had insulted her : Glasdale, surrender to the King of Heaven. You called me a harlot, and I am full of pity for your soul and the souls of all your men."

So the battle continued to rage; and, in the end, the great outwork known as Les Tourelles was taken, and the Maid's standard floated on

the ruins. The bulk of the French army marched back in triumph into Orleans, and debated whether it was proper to renew the battle on the next day, which happened to be Sunday. Once more it was by the Maid, and not by the captains, that the question was resolved. Some of the world's greatest battles, including Waterloo, have, as we all know, been fought upon a Sunday; but Jeanne decided that it was better to observe the Lord's Day than to follow up a success and complete the confusion of the enemy:

"For the love and honour of the holy Sunday," she said, " do not be the first to engage in battle. Do not attack the English; but if the English attack you, defend yourselves valiantly, and have no fear, for the victory will surely be yours."

But the English had no intention of attacking. They drew up in line, as if in challenge and demonstration; but when they saw that the demonstration was unheeded and the challenge was declined, they wheeled about, and marched away in good order. "It is not my Lord's will that you should fight them to-day," said the Maid. "You will be able to fight them another time. Now go and give God the glory."

Thus Orleans was relieved after a siege of 209 days-nine days after the entrance of the Maid.

CHAPTER X

Theological treatises on the Maid's mission-Disputes between rival historians as to her military capacity-The power of faith -The march to Reims and the coronation of the King of France.

THOUGH Orleans had been delivered, theological deliberations did not cease. It was apparent, and was therefore, in a general way, agreed that the Maid was marvellous. The whole face of the war had been altered by the inspiration of her advent. But the phenomenon needed explanation. All Christendom, in fact, was talking about it; and it was the clear business of the clergy to lay down the law on the subject. So, while the Maid and the men-at-arms were following up the Orleans victory with other victories, bishops and others were putting and answering the questions: What was it proper to think about the Maid? What use was it reasonable to make of her?

We have a notable treatise on the subject, dashed off at the topical hour, by Jacques Gelu, Archbishop of Embrun. He was a most learned clerk; he supported his arguments with quotations from innumerable classical authors, from Euripides and Aristotle to Eratosthenes

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and Marcus Varro; and the language in which he contrasted the Maid's glorious feats of arms with her humble origin sounds to a modern ear more eloquent and picturesque than courteous. He wrote of her as "a child brought up on a dung-hill"; he compared her to "the insects such as flies and fleas, by means of which God often abases the pride of men." But he meant well.

His conclusion was favourable, though piety and worldly wisdom were curiously commingled in it. He advised, in the first place, that all the armies should be properly equipped and that all the measures which prudence prompted should be taken. Then, but not till then, “the counsel of the Maid should be asked, sought, and solicited in preference to any other." And that not only in military matters: the Maid might also be engaged to promote piety in high places :

"We give the King this advice: that he should, every day, perform some task agreeable to God, and should confer with the Maid about it; and that, whatever counsel the Maid gives him, he should act upon it devoutly, in order that God may not withdraw His support from him, but may continue the gift of His grace.'

Very similar, though in some respects more ample, was the report of Jean Gerson, sometime Chancellor of the University of Paris, and now living in a monastery at Lyon.

The Maid's supernatural endowment, he laid down, was not one of those fundamental articles of the Catholic faith which every man must accept or perish everlastingly-it obviously could not be, as the Pope had not been consulted on the subject. But it was a probable belief, convenient and edifying; and its wide dissemination was desirable. If the King and the clergy preferred to reserve their own judgment, hey should at least discourage doubt on the part of the soldiers and the common people. Nor need they be perturbed by that Article of the Canon Law which forbade women to wear men's apparel. That article was only directed against an indecorum which was not here involved. On the assumption that the Maid was the channel of the divine grace, operating for the greater glory of France, the end might properly be held to sanctify the means.

Suffolk

Meanwhile the fighting continued. Jargeau and Beaugency were taken; Meung was evacuated; the battle of Pathay was won. was made prisoner, and Sir John Fastolf's relieving force was scattered. How much or how little the Maid had to do with it all is one of those obscure problems concerning which rival historians are apt to argue with excess of fury. Nearly all the authorities are on the one side; nearly all the probabilities are on the other. Andrew Lang, discussing the point with M. Anatole France, belaboured his opponent with quotations from eye-witnesses of the