The Executioner's Knife; Or, Joan of Arc. Эжен Сю

Maid's father is a brute! He must have a bad heart! The idea of cursing his daughter – who is going to deliver Gaul."

      "She will do so – Merlin foretold it."

      "It will be a beautiful day for us all when the English are thrust out of our poor country which they have been ravaging for so many years!"

      "The fault lies with the knighthood," put in a civilian; "why did it prove so cowardly at Poitiers? This nobility is a costly luxury."

      "And on top of all, oppressed and persecuted, Jacques Bonhomme has had to pay the ransom for the cowardly seigneurs with gilded spurs!"

      "But Jacques Bonhomme got tired and kicked in his desperation. Oh, once at least did the scythe and fork get the better of the lance and sword! The Jacquerie revenged the serfs! Death to the nobles!"

      "But what a carnage was not thereupon made of the Jacques! The day of reprisals will come!"

      "Well, the Jacques had their turn; that is some consolation!"45

      "Now it will be the turn of the English, thanks to Joan the Maid – the envoy of God! She will throw them out!"

      "Aye, aye! Let her alone – she promised that within a month there will not be one of these foreigners left in France."46

      "Glory to her! The shepherdess of Domremy will have done what neither King, dukes, knights nor captains were capable of accomplishing!"

      "Good luck to you, Joan, born like ourselves of the common people! A blessing on her from all the poor serfs who have been suffering death and all the agonies of death at the hands of the English!"

      "They are letting down the drawbridge of the castle!"

      "There she is! That's she!"

      "How well shaped and beautiful she is in her man's clothes! Prosperity to Joan the Maid!"

      "Look at her! You would take her for a handsome young page with her black hair cut round, her scarlet cape, her green jacket, her leather hose and her spurred boots! Long live our Joan!"

      "By my soul, she has a sword on her side!"

      "Although not a generous man, the Sire of Baudricourt presented her with it."

      "That's the least he could do! Did not the rest of us in Vaucouleurs go down in our pockets to purchase a horse for the warrior maid?"

      "Master Simon, the cloth merchant, answered for the palfrey as a patient animal and of a good disposition; a child could lead it; it served as the mount to a noble dame in the hunt with falcons."

      "Upon the word of an archer," again put in the archer of the Sire of Baudricourt's company, "Joan holds herself in the saddle like a captain! By the bowels of the Pope! She is beautiful and well shaped! How sorry I am not to be among the armed men of her escort! I would go with her to the end of the world, if only for the pleasure of looking at her!"

      "Indeed, if I were a soldier, I would prefer to obey orders given by a sweet voice and from pretty little lips, than given by a rough voice and from hairy and coarse lips."

      "Look at the Sire of Novelpont with his iron armor! He rides at Joan's right. Do you see him? He is a worthy seigneur."

      "He looks as if he would guard her as his own daughter. May God guard them both!"

      "He is adjusting a strap on the bridle of the Maid's palfrey."

      "At her left is the Sire of Baudricourt; he will probably accompany her part of the way."

      "There is the equerry Bertrand of Poulagny, carrying his master's lance and shield."

      "Jesus! They have only four armed men with them! All told six persons to escort Joan from here to Touraine! And through such dangerous territories! What an imprudence!"

      "God will watch over the holy Maid."

      "Look – she is turning in her saddle and seems to wave good-bye to someone in the castle."

      "She is taking her handkerchief to her eyes; she is drying her tears."

      "She must have been waving good-bye to her uncle and aunt, the old Laxarts."

      "Yes; there they are, both of them, at the lower window of the tower; they are holding each other's hands and weep to see their niece depart, perhaps forever! War is so changeable a thing!"

      "Poor, dear girl! Her heart must bleed, as she said, to go all alone, far from her folks, and to battle at the mercy of God!"

      "She will now turn around the corner of the rampart – "

      "Let her at least hear our hearty adieus – Good luck, Joan the Maid! Good luck to Joan! Good luck! Good luck! Death to the English!"

      "She hears us – she makes a sign – she is waving good-bye to us. Victory to Joan!"

      "Mother! Mother! Take me up in your arms! Put me on your shoulders. Let me see her again."

      "Come child! Take a good look! Always remember Joan! Thanks to her, no longer will desolate mothers weep for sons and husbands massacred by the English."

      "Good luck to Joan – Good luck!"

      "She has turned the corner of the rampart – she is gone!"

      "Good luck to Joan the Maid! May the good God go with her!"

      "May she deliver us from the English! Good luck, Joan!"

      PART II

      CHINON

      CHAPTER I

      THE COUNCIL OF CHARLES VII

      Three of the principal members of the Council of King Charles VII – George of La Tremouille, chamberlain and a despotic, avaricious and suspicious minister; the Sire of Gaucourt, an envious and cruel soldier; and Regnault, Bishop of Chartres, a double-dealing and ambitious prelate – were assembled on the 7th of March of 1429 in a hall of the Castle of Chinon.

      "May the fever carry off that Robert of Baudricourt! The man's audacity of writing direct to the King inducing him to receive that female cowherd!" cried George of La Tremouille. "And Charles considers the affair a pleasant thing and wants to have a look at the crazy girl! The fools claim she is sent by God – I hold she has been sent by the devil to thwart my plans!"

      "There is but one way of eluding the formal orders of the King," observed the Bishop of Chartres. "That accursed John of Novelpont has made so much noise that our Sire is determined to see the vassal whom, since her arrival, we have kept confined in the tower of Coudray to await the royal audience. The brazen and vagabond minx feels greatly elated at the imbecile enthusiasm that she has been made the object of by the clouts of Lorraine, and is surprised at not having been presented to Charles VII! Blood of Christ! Our do-nothing King is quite capable, as a means both of ridding himself of us and of dropping all care on the score of the kingdom's safety, of tempting God by accepting the aid of this Joan – In that event, my seigneurs, it will be all over with the influence of the royal council! All that will be left for us to do will be to quit our posts."

45

See the preceding volume of this series, "The Iron Trevet."

46

Proceedings of the Rehabilitation, vol. II, p. 450.