idling and dicing just within the gate.

I was throwing my last piece of crust to a swan, my mind empty of
thought, when I started out of my dream, hearing that rare woman's voice
which once I had heard before. Then turning quickly, I saw, walking
between two gentlemen, even those who had ridden with her from
Vaucouleurs, one whom no man could deem to be other than that much-talked-
of Maid of Lorraine. She was clad very simply, like the varlet of some
lord of no great estate, in a black cap with a little silver brooch, a
grey doublet, and black and grey hose, trussed up with many points; a
sword of small price hung by her side. {10} In stature she was something
above the common height of women, her face brown with sun and wind, her
eyes great, grey, and beautiful, beneath black brows, her lips red and
smiling. In figure she seemed strong and shapely, but so slim--she being
but seventeen years of age--that, were it not for her sweet girl's voice,
and for the beauty of her grey eyes, she might well have passed for a
page, her black hair being cut "en ronde," as was and is the fashion
among men-at-arms. Thus much have I written concerning her bodily
aspect, because many have asked me what manner of woman was the blessed
Maid, and whether she was beautiful. I gazed at her like one
moon-struck, then, remembering my courtesy, I doffed my cap, and louted
low; and she bowed, smiling graciously like a great lady, but with such
an air as if her mind was far away.

She passed, with her two gentlemen, but the French sentinel barred the
way, holding his fauchard thwartwise.

"On what business come you, and by what right?" he cried, in a rude
voice.