ecclesiastics, and statesmen, to submit her to a not-too-benevolent
cross-examination. Several of these men were still alive at the time
of the Rehabilitation and gave their recollections of this examination,
though its formal records have not been preserved. A Dominican monk,
Aymer, one of an order she loved, addressed her gravely with the
severity with which that institution is always credited. "You say that
God will deliver France; if He has so determined, He has no need of
men-at-arms." "Ah!" cried the girl, with perhaps a note of irritation
in her voice, "the men must fight; it is God who gives the victory." To
another discomfited Brother, Jeanne, exasperated, answered with a little
roughness, showing that our Maid, though gentle as a child to all gentle
souls, was no piece of subdued perfection, but a woman of the fields,
and lately much in the company of rough-spoken men. He was of Limoges, a
certain Brother Seguin, "_bien aigre homme_," and disposed apparently
to weaken the trial by questions without importance: he asked her what
language her celestial visitors spoke? "Better than yours," answered the
peasant girl. He could not have been, as we say in Scotland, altogether
"an ill man," for he acknowledged that he spoke the patois of his
district, and therefore that the blow was fair. But perhaps for
the moment he was irritated too. He asked her, a question equally
unnecessary, "do you believe in God?" to which with more and more
impatience she made a similar answer: "Better than you do." There was
nothing to be made of one so well able to defend herself. "Words are
all very well," said the monk, "but God would not have us believe
you, unless you show us some sign." To this Jeanne made an answer more
dignified, though still showing signs of exasperation, "I have not come
to Poitiers to give signs," she said; "but take me to Orleans--I will
then show the signs I am sent to show. Give me as small a band as you
please, but let me go."