such good knights, and next, because I saw a blink of hope, having
friends at Court. My master went on--

"Next, Ogilvie told how he had been in hall, with the Dauphin, the
Chancellor Tremouille, and some scores of knights and nobles, a great
throng. They were all waiting on this Lorrainer wench, for the Dauphin
had been told, at last, that she brought a letter from Baudricourt, but
before he would not see her. This letter had been kept from him, I guess
by whom, and there was other clash of marvels wrought by her, I know not
what. So their wisdom was set on putting her to a kind of trial, foolish
enough! A young knight was dressed in jewels and a coronet of the
King's, and the King was clad right soberly, and held himself far back in
the throng, while the other stood in front, looking big. So the wench
comes in, and, walking straight through the press of knights, with her
head high, kneels to the King, where he stood retired, and calls him
'gentle Dauphin'!

"'Nay, ma mie,' says he, ''tis not I who am the Dauphin, but his Highness
yonder,'--pointing to the young knight, who showed all his plumage like a
muircock in spring.

"Nay, gentle Dauphin," she answers, so Ogilvie said, "it is to thee that
I am sent, and no other, and I am come to save the good town of Orleans,
and to lead thee to thy sacring at Rheims."

"Here they were all struck amazed, and the King not least, who then had
some words apart with the girl. And he has given her rooms in the Tour
Coudraye within the castle; and the clergy and the doctors are to examine
her straitly, whether she be from a good airt, {15} or an ill, and all
because she knew the King, she who had never seen him before. Why should