shall send me to my King.'

"Thus she spoke, and looked at us all with those shining eyes of
hers; yet it seemed to me she scarce saw us. Her glance did go
beyond, as though she were gazing in vision upon the things which
were to be."

"She was beautiful, you say?" asked Sir Guy, whose interest was
keenly aroused; but who, I saw, was doubtful whether Bertrand had
not been deceived by some witchery of fair face and graceful form;
for Bertrand, albeit a man of thews and sinews and bold as a lion
in fight, was something of the dreamer too, as warriors in all ages
have sometimes been.

"Yes--as an angel of God is beautiful," he answered, "ask me not of
that; for I can tell you nothing. I know not the hue of her hair or
of her eyes, nor what her face was like, nor her form, save that
she was tall and very slender; but beautiful--ah yes!--with the
beauty which this world cannot give; a beauty which silenced every
flippant jest, shamed every scoffing thought, turned ridicule into
wonder, contempt into reverence. Whether this wonderful maiden came
in truth as a messenger of God or no, at least not one present but
saw well that she herself believed heart and soul in her divine
commission."

"And what answer did the Seigneur de Baudricourt make to her?"

"He gazed upon her full for awhile, and then he suddenly asked of
her, 'And when shall all these wonders come to pass?'