said he, "that though I am the father of your Fairy Queen, I am also one
of the gracious Princess's obedient subjects. No mother has she, poor
wench," he added, in a lower voice; "and faith, we men must always obey
some woman--as it seems now that the King himself must soon do and all
his captains."

"You speak," I said, "of the gracious Queen of Sicily and Jerusalem?"--a
lady who was thought to be of much avail, as was but right, in the
counsels of her son-in-law, the Dauphin, he having married her gentle
daughter.

"Ay; Queen Yolande is far ben {7} with the King--would he had no worse
counsellors!" said he, smiling; "but I speak of a far more potent
sovereign, if all that she tells of herself be true. You have heard, or
belike you have not heard, of the famed Pucelle--so she calls herself, I
hope not without a warranty--the Lorrainer peasant lass, who is to drive
the English into the sea, so she gives us all fair warning?"

"Never a word have I heard, or never marked so senseless a bruit if I
heard it; she must be some moon-struck wench, and in her wits wandering."

"Moon-struck, or sun-struck, or saint-struck, she will strike down our
ancient enemy of England, and show you men how it is not wine and
wickedness that make good soldiers!" cried the girl whom he called
Elliot, her face rose-red with anger; and from her eyes two blue rays of
light shot straight to mine, so that I believe my face waxed wan, the
blood flying to my heart.

"Listen to her! look at her!" said her father, jestingly. "Elliot, if
your renowned maid can fright the English as you have affrayed a good