had passed since our journey to Domremy, before a wild gale from
the northeast brought heavy snow, which lay white upon the ground
for many long weeks, and grew deeper and deeper as more fell, till
the wolves ravaged right up to the very walls of Vaucouleurs, and
some of the country villages were quite cut off from intercourse
with the world.

Thus it came about that I was shut up in Vaucouleurs with my good
comrade and friend Bertrand, in the Castle of which Robert de
Baudricourt was governor, and for awhile little news reached us
from the outside world, though such news as did penetrate to our
solitude was all of disaster for the arms of France.

We never spoke to De Baudricourt of our expedition to Domremy, nor
told him that we had seen the Maid again. Yet methinks not a day
passed without our thinking of her, recalling something of that
wonderful look we had seen upon her face, and asking in our hearts
whether indeed she were truly visited by heavenly visions sent by
God, and whether she indeed heard voices which could reach no ears
but hers.

I observed that Bertrand was more regular in attendance at the
services of the Church, and especially at Mass, than was usual with
young knights in those days, and for my part, I felt a stronger
desire after such spiritual aids than I ever remember to have done
in my life before. It became a regular thing with us to attend the
early Mass in the little chapel of the Castle; and, instead of
growing lax (as I had done before many times in my roving life), as
to attending confession and receiving the Holy Sacrament, I now
began to feel the need for both, as though I were preparing me for