pronounced her a saint. But it will be done soon. Already he has
declared her among the Blessed Ones. To me she is the most blessed of
all. She never thought of herself or of a saint's crown. She gave her
life entire for France. And this is the place that she came from! Think
of that--right here!"

"I did not know that," said the soldier.

"But yes," the priest went on, kindling. "I tell you it was here that
the Maid of France received her visions and set out to work. You see
that village below us--look out through the branches--that is Dom-remy,
where she was born. That spire just at the edge of the wood--you saw
that? It is the basilica they have built to her memory. It is full of
pictures of her. It stands where the old beech-tree, 'Fair May,' used
to grow. There she heard the voices and saw the saints who sent her on
her mission. And this is the Gooseberry Spring, the Well of the Good
Fairies. Here she came with the other children, at the festival of the
well-dressing, to spread their garlands around it, and sing, and eat
their supper on the green. Heavenly voices spoke to her, but the others
did not hear them. Often did she drink of this water. It became a
fountain of life springing up in her heart. I have come to drink at the
same source. It will strengthen me as a sacrament. Come, son, let us
take it together as we go to our duty in battle."

Father Courcy stood up and opened his old black bag. He took out a
small metal cup. He filled it carefully at the spring. He made the sign
of the cross over it.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he murmured,
"blessed and holy is this water." Then he held the cup toward the