"And as to you, Raoul of Gaucourt," replied the Sire of La Tremouille, "I hope you are not ignorant of the fact that Dunois, Lahire, Xaintrailles, the Constable of Richemont, the Duke of Alencon, and other leading commanders, are all jealous of your ability and of your seat in the royal council, and that they will rank themselves on the side of the girl, whom they will turn into a docile instrument to overthrow you. If the royal army wins but one victory, your influence and military prestige will be eclipsed by the success of your rivals. Our King, fickle, ungrateful and irresolute as we know him to be, will sacrifice you at the first suspicion of treason or incompetence."

"Thunder and blood!" cried Raoul of Gaucourt, "I have a good mind to go straight to the tower of Coudray and order the execution of the sorceress without the formality of a trial! We shall find priests enough to affirm that Satan carried her off."

"The method is violent and clumsy, dear captain!" replied George of La Tremouille. "The same end can be reached by other methods. It is understood that I, you, and the Bishop of Chartres have common interests which bind us against the girl. What we must now do is to consider how to ruin her. Let's begin with you, holy Bishop of Chartres, the spiritual director of our Sire. However debauched he is, occasionally he is afraid of the devil. Could you not insinuate to the good King that he would endanger the salvation of his soul if he were, precipitately and without a previous inquest, to attach faith to the creature that calls herself a deputy of the Lord, but who is more likely a deputy of Satan?"

"An excellent idea!" exclaimed the Bishop of Chartres. "I shall convince Charles VII that it is imperative to have Joan examined by the clerks of theology, they being alone qualified to ascertain and solemnly declare whether she is obeying a divine inspiration, or whether, on the contrary, she is not a brazen impostor possessed of the evil spirit, in which case, by placing confidence in the girl, our Sire would then render himself the accomplice in a sorcery. I shall then empanel a canonical college that shall be charged with p.r.o.nouncing finally and infallibly upon the degree of faith that may be accorded to the alleged divine mission of Joan. Obedient to my secret instructions she shall be p.r.o.nounced a heretic, a sorceress and possessed of the evil spirit. The f.a.gots will soon be in full flare to receive her to the heart's content of our brave Gaucourt. We shall have her burned alive."

"Blood of G.o.d!" cried the soldier. "I shall myself set fire to the pyre.

There is the infamous female serf, who meant to command n.o.ble captains, burnt to a crisp!"

"She is not yet roasted, dear Gaucourt!" observed the Sire of La Tremouille. "Let us suppose that the plan of our friend the Bishop of Chartres fails; let us suppose that by some fatal accident and contrary to the instructions issued to it by our worthy bishop, the canonical council declares the said Joan truly and duly inspired by G.o.d--"

"I answer for the clerks whom I shall choose for the examination! They will all be men entirely devoted to me."

"Dear Bishop, it sometimes happens that the soldiers we think we can answer for man for man, slip us at the moment of action. It may happen that way with your clerks. Let us proceed from the theory that King Charles, finding himself _in extremis_, is inclined to take the risk of placing the said Joan at the head of his armies. It will then rest with you, Raoul of Gaucourt, more than with anyone else, to ruin the insolent girl, who has but one fixed thought--to raise the siege of Orleans. You must then demand of the King the command of the town of Orleans, and you must consent to serve under her orders."

"May h.e.l.l confound me if ever, even for a single hour, I should consent to receive orders from that she-cowherd!"

"Be not all tempest and flame, brave Gaucourt. Remember that the bulk of the troops would then be under your immediate orders. Joan will issue orders to you, but you can disregard them, you can cross and thwart all her plans of battle; you can cause well calculated delays in the movements of the troops; above all you could--well--manoeuvre in such a way as to have the crazy girl fall into the hands of the English. In short, it would lie with you, more than with us, to prevent her from winning her first battle."

"At the first check that she meets," added the Bishop of Chartres insinuatingly to Raoul of Gaucourt, "the enthusiasm that she now excites will change into contempt. The people will feel ashamed of having allowed themselves to be duped by so clumsy an imposition. The revulsion against her will be immediate. If, contrary to all expectations--I should say certainty--the canonical council appointed by myself should declare Joan truly inspired by G.o.d;--if the King then places her at the head of his troops--then, brave Gaucourt, the loss of her first battle, brought on by your skilful manoeuvres, will deal a fatal blow to the adventuress! Victorious, she would be the envoy of G.o.d; vanquished, she becomes the envoy of Satan!--Then we may proceed against her in regular form under the pretext of heresy and sorcery--then will the f.a.gots that you are in such a hurry to set fire to soon be kindled to receive her.

It depends upon you whether she shall be burned alive by us, or allowed to be taken by the English, who will execute her."

"Well," answered Raoul of Gaucourt meditatively, "let us suppose the she-cowherd orders a sally against the besiegers; the bridge is lowered; the bedeviled girl rushes out over it; a few of our men follow her;--I give the signal to retreat; my people hasten to re-enter the town; the bridge is raised--and the wench remains in the power of the enemy! Is that it?"

"Yes; can we rely upon you?"

"Yes; I perceive the way, either by a false sally or some other manoeuvre, to settle the she-devil!"

"And now," resumed the Sire of La Tremouille, "let us feel hopeful; our plot is well laid; our nets are skilfully spread. It will be impossible for the visionary to escape; either you, Gaucourt, or you, worthy Bishop, will prevent it. As to me, I shall not be idle. But first of all, holy Bishop, is it not an established fact that a demon can not possess the body of a virgin?"

"It is an unquestionable fact, according to the formula of exorcism--We shall attend to that."

"Now, then, Joan claims to be a virgin. Her fanatical and imbecile followers call her Joan the Maid. Either the street-walker, indecently clad in man's clothes, is the concubine of John of Novelpont, to judge by the interest he takes in her, or she is really chaste and a virgin.

It shall be my part to p.r.i.c.k the libertine curiosity of the King on the subject by proposing to him to a.s.semble a council of matrons. Such a council, presided over, let us suppose, by the King's mother-in-law, Yolande of Sicily, will be commissioned to ascertain whether Joan is really a virgin. If she is none, the most violent suspicions of imposture and sorcery immediately rise against her. Then she no longer is the alleged saint whom G.o.d has inspired, but an audacious cheat, a worthy companion of the easy wenches who follow the encampments. She will then be shamefully whipped, and then driven away, if not burned for a sorceress."

"I am ready to accept your theory that she is a ribald," replied the Bishop of Chartres, "and, with you, I feel sure that John of Novelpont, who is so fascinated with her, is her lover. Nevertheless, if by accident she does not lie and is justified in allowing herself to be called the Maid, and if it is solemnly established that she is still pure, would not that greatly redound to her advantage? Would not then the presumption of her divine mission be strengthened? On the other hand, by not submitting Joan to any such trial, the field remains free for suspicions, which it would then be an easy thing for us to fan; we could easily set calumny afloat."

"Your objection is serious," answered the Sire of La Tremouille.

"Nevertheless, just supposing the girl to be chaste, what must not be her shame at the thought of so humiliating an investigation! The more conscious she be of the chast.i.ty of her life, that they say has been irreproachable until now, all the more will the creature feel grieved and indignant at a suspicion that so outrages her honor! The chaster she is, all the more will she revolt at the shamefulness of the verification! She will scorn the proposition as an unbearable insult, and will refuse to appear before the council of matrons!--Skilfully exploited, her refusal will turn against her."

"Upon the word of a soldier, the idea is ingenious and droll! I foresee that our wanton Sire will himself want to preside over the council that is to do the examining!"

"And yet, should Joan submit to the trial, and come out triumphant, she will then have a great advantage over us."

"No greater than if she is believed to be a maid upon her own word. The convocation of a council of matrons offers us two chances: if Joan submits to the disgraceful examination she may be declared a strumpet; if she refuses, her refusal makes against her!"

"There is nothing to answer to that," said Raoul of Gaucourt; "I adhere to the plan of a council of matrons to pa.s.s upon her virginity."

"Now, let us sum up and lay down our plan of conduct. First, to obtain from the King that a council of matrons be summoned to pa.s.s and publicly p.r.o.nounce itself upon the maidenhood of our adventuress; secondly, in case she issues triumphant from that trial, to convoke a canonical council, instructed to put to the girl the most subtle, the hardest, the most perplexing theological questions, and to announce from her answers whether or not she is inspired by G.o.d; thirdly, and lastly, in the next to impossible event that this second examination also result in her favor, to manoeuvre in such manner that she lose her first battle and remain a prisoner in the hands of the English--one way or another she is bound to go down."

At this moment the equerry of Charles VII knocked at the door of the council hall, and entered to announce to the Sire of La Tremouille that the King demanded his minister's immediate presence.

CHAPTER II.

ALOYSE OF CASTELNAU.

Charles VII--the "gentle Dauphin" of France and object of the fervent adoration of Joan, who now for several days lay sequestered in the tower of Coudray--soon tired of the interview to which he had summoned his minister, and sought recreation elsewhere. He found it in the company of his mistress, Aloyse of Castelnau. Indolently stretched upon a cushion at her feet he chatted with her. Frail and slight of stature, the prince, although barely twenty-three years of age, was pale, worn-out and unnerved by excesses. Aloyse, on the other hand, in the full splendor of her beauty, soon found occasion to answer a joke of her royal lover on the subject of Joan the Maid. She said smiling:

"Fie, Charles! Fie, you libertine! To hold such language about an inspired virgin who wishes to restore to you the crown of France!"

"If it is to be that way, the ways of the Lord are strange and inscrutable, as our tonsured friends say. To have the crown and kingdom of France turn upon the maidenhood, upon the virginity of a cowherd!"

"Are you still at it?" responded Aloyse, interrupting Charles. "I guess your villainous thoughts regarding the poor girl."

"I ask myself, how could the idea have germinated in the mind of that poor girl of restoring my crown to me!"

"You display very little concern about your kingdom!"

"On the contrary--I think a good deal of my crown. It is the cares of royalty that cause me to speak in that way, my beautiful mistress."

"If the English take Orleans, the key of Touraine and Poitou, and they then invade those provinces, what will then be left to you?"

"You, my charmer! And if I must make the confession, it has often occurred to me that my great-grandfather, King John II, of pious memory, must have recorded among the happy days of his life the one on which he lost the battle of Poitiers--"

"The day when your great-grandfather, taken prisoner by the English, was transported to their own country? You must be crazy, my dear Charles!"

"Without any doubt, I am crazy; but crazy with love for you, my Aloyse!

But let us come back to King John, made prisoner at the battle of Poitiers. He is taken to England. He is received with chivalrous courtesy and unheard-of magnificence. A sumptuous palace is a.s.signed to him for prison, and he is invited out to exquisite banquets. The handsomest girls of England are charged to watch him. The forests that are at his disposal teem with game; the fields are vast; the rivers limpid. Thus his time is divided between love, play, the table, fishing, hunting--until he dies of indigestion. While King John was thus peaceably enjoying life in England, what was his son doing, the unhappy Charles V? Driven out of Paris by a vile populace that rose in rebellion at the voice of Marcel, the unhappy Charles the Wise, as he was called, frightened out of his senses by the ferocities of the Jacquerie, beset by the bustle of royalty, broken with the fatigues of war, ever on horseback, ever sleeping on the hard ground, and never sleeping with both eyes shut, living on poor fare and on poorer love, rushing hither and thither over hill and dale, was ever out of breath running after his crown! By the glories of Easter! Do you call that 'wisdom'?"

"He at least had the glory of re-conquering his crown, and indulged the pleasure of executing his enemies."

"Oh, I well understand the happiness of revenge. I abominate those insolent Parisians, those chasers of kings. If I had that accursed town in my power, I would order the most inveterate Burgundians to be hanged.

But I would be careful not to establish my residence there, out of fear of fresh seditions. Charles V revenged himself; he reigned, but at the price of what anxieties, torments and incessant civil wars! While his father, King John, was all the while living happily in England, surrounded by abundance and love! To want this, to oppose that in matters of public concern, are intellectual labors that I leave to the Sire of La Tremouille and his fellows of the royal council to rack their brains over. Without alarming myself over the future, my Aloyse, I allow the current to carry me, rocked in your arms. Whatever may happen, I laugh! Long live love!"

"Oh, you do not speak like a King."

"A plague upon royalty! A burning crown of thorns! I'd rather have your white hands weave me a chaplet of myrtle, and fill my cup. If they do, I would gladly see the debris of my throne crumble and vanish. When the English will have conquered the provinces that still are left to me, they will take care of me as they did of my predecessor, King John! So, then, long live wine, idleness and love! If, on the contrary, in His ill will towards me, the Lord has stirred up this raging Maid, who is obstinately set upon restoring to me the crown of my fathers with all its escort of uneasiness, bl.u.s.ter and troubles--let it be! Let my fate be fulfilled! But, I swear to G.o.d, I shall budge not one step to insure the success of the warrior maid!"

"Then you have no faith in the inspiration of Joan, the Maid?"

"I have faith in your pretty eyes, for the reason that they keep all their promises; and I have none in the shepherdess. Were it not that I am daily beset with the outcry of people who have the royalty more at heart than I myself, I long ago would have sent her back to her muttons.

But the Sire of La Tremouille himself inclines to yielding to these clamors. Some insist on seeing in Joan a divine instrument; others hold that in the desperate state of things we should try to profit by the influence that the Maid may exert over the minds of the soldiers. I am, accordingly, compelled to receive her at court to-day. But the Sire of La Tremouille is of the opinion that a council of matrons should first decide whether the pretty girl really possesses the magic charm with the aid of which I am to reconquer my kingdom."

"Come, Charles! A truce to your villainous jokes!"