These,in truth,I had never taken,but put them away secretly,as doubting whether such medicaments,the very dust of the persecuting Egyptian and idolatrous race,were fit for a Christian to swallow,with any hope of a blessing.Thus my kind nurse ended,calling herself my lady's sister in the love of France and of the Maid,and bidding my lady be mindful of so true a lover,who lay sick for a token at her hands.These letters she sealed,and intrusted to Colet de Vienne,the royal messenger,the same who rode from Vaucouleurs to Chinon,in the beginning of the Maid's mission,and who,as then,was faring to Tours with letters from Orleans.
Meanwhile all the town was full of joy,in early June,because the Maid was to visit the city,with D'Alencon and the Bastard,on her way to besiege Jargeau.It was June the ninth,in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and twenty-nine,the sun shining warm in a clear blue sky,and all the bells of Orleans a-ringing,to welcome back the Maiden.I myself sat in the window,over the doorway,alone with Charlotte sitting by my side,for her father had gone to the Hotel de Ville,with her mother,to welcome the captains.Below us were hangings of rich carpets,to make the house look gay,for every house was adorned in the best manner,and flags floated in the long street,and flowers strewed the road,to do honour to our deliverer.Thus we waited,and presently the sound of music filled the air,with fragrance of incense,for the priests were walking in front,swinging censers and chanting the Te Deum laudamus.And then came a company of girls strewing flowers,and fair boys blowing on trumpets,and next,on a black horse,in white armour,with a hucque of scarlet broidered with gold,the blessed Maid herself,unhelmeted,glancing every way with her happy eyes,while the women ran to touch her armour with their rings,as to a saint,and the men kissed her mailed feet.
To be alive,and to feel my life returning in a flood of strength and joy in that sweet air,with the gladness of the multitude pulsing through it as a man's heart beats in his body,seemed to me like Paradise.But out of Paradise our first parents were driven long ago,as anon I was to be from mine.For,as the Maid passed,Idoffed my cap and waved it,since to shout "Noel"with the rest,Idared not,because of my infirmity.Now,it so fell that,glancing around,she saw and knew me,and bowed to me,with a gesture of her hand,as queenly as if she,a manant's child,had been a daughter of France.At that moment,noting the Maid's courtesy towards me,Charlotte stood up from beside me,with a handful of red roses,which she threw towards her.As it chanced,belike because she was proud to be with one whom the Maid honoured,or to steady herself as she threw,she laid her left hand about my neck,and so standing,cast her flowers,and then looked laughing back into my eyes,with a happy face.The roses missed the Maid,whose horse caracoled at that moment as she went by,but they lit in the lap of a damsel that rode at her rein,on a lyart {28}palfrey,and she looking up,I saw the face of Elliot,and Elliot saw me,and saw Charlotte leaning on me and laughing.Then Elliot's face grew deadly pale,her lower lip stiff,as when she was angered with me at Chinon,and so,wrying her neck suddenly to the left,she rode on her way,nor ever looked towards us again.
"Who may that proud damsel be,and what ails her at my roses?"quoth Charlotte,sitting herself down again and still following them with her eyes."Methinks I have seen her face before;and what ails you?"she asked,looking earnestly on me,"for you are as white as the last snow ere it melts in spring."I had good reason to be pale,for I very well guessed that Elliot,having ridden in the Maiden's company to see me,and to surprise me with the unlooked-for gladness of her coming,had marked Charlotte as she so innocently leaned on me and laughed to me,and had conceived anger against us both,for of a truth Charlotte was very fair and of a joyous aspect.Yet,taken so suddenly as I was,between the extreme of delight in looking on my lady beyond hope,and the very deep of sorrow that she had so bitterly slighted me,Iwas yet wary of betraying myself.For the girl beside me had,in all honest and maidenly service that woman may do for man,been kinder to me than a sister,and no thought or word of earthly love had ever passed between us.That she should wot of Elliot's anger,and of its cause,and so hold my lady lightly,ay,and triumph over her in her heart (as is the nature of a woman,her ministry being thus churlishly repaid),was more than I could endure.So,may the saints forgive me!I lied,and it is a strange thing,but true,that howsoever a gentleman may hate the very thought of a lie,yet often he finds it hard to tell the truth to a woman.
"Do I look white?"I said."Then it is because I have a sudden pang of sorrow.For one moment I deemed that proud damsel was the lady of my love,whom,in verity,she most strangely favours,so that you might think them sisters.But alas!she is but the daughter of a good Scots knight at Chinon,whom I have seen there before to-day,and marvelled how much she and my lady favour each other.Therefore am I pale,because that hope of mine is broken.And you know her face,belike,from my poor picture of my lady."Charlotte looked at me steadily,and flushed red;but even then,one who rode by among the men-at-arms noted me,and,waving his arm towards me,cried in a loud voice -"Hail,fair son,soon will I be with thee!"and so,turning in his saddle to watch me,he laughed a loud laugh and rode onwards.He was my master,and as my eyes followed him,Charlotte spoke.
"And who is that great Scot,with his Scots twang of the tongue,who called you 'son'?By the Mass,she was your lady,and yonder wight is her father,of whom you have spoken to me more than once";for,indeed,I had told her all the story of my loves.
Then I was confused,for I could no longer deny the truth,and not having one word to say,I sighed from my heart.
