to happen which would change the aspect of things, and make those young
people see that when it comes to laughing, the person that laughs last
has the best chance. For just then a face which we all knew and all
feared projected itself from behind the Fairy Tree, and the thought that
shot through us all was, crazy Benoist has gotten loose from his cage,
and we are as good as dead! This ragged and hairy and horrible creature
glided out from behind the tree, and raised an ax as he came. We all
broke and fled, this way and that, the girls screaming and crying. No,
not all; all but Joan. She stood up and faced the man, and remained so.
As we reached the wood that borders the grassy clearing and jumped into
its shelter, two or three of us glanced back to see if Benoist was
gaining on us, and that is what we saw--Joan standing, and the maniac
gliding stealthily toward her with his ax lifted. The sight was
sickening. We stood where we were, trembling and not able to move. I did
not want to see the murder done, and yet I could not take my eyes away.
Now I saw Joan step forward to meet the man, though I believed my eyes
must be deceiving me. Then I saw him stop. He threatened her with his ax,
as if to warn her not to come further, but she paid no heed, but went
steadily on, until she was right in front of him--right under his ax.
Then she stopped, and seemed to begin to talk with him. It made me sick,
yes, giddy, and everything swam around me, and I could not see anything
for a time--whether long or brief I do not know. When this passed and I
looked again, Joan was walking by the man's side toward the village,
holding him by his hand. The ax was in her other hand.

One by one the boys and girls crept out, and we stood there gazing,
open-mouthed, till those two entered the village and were hid from sight.
It was then that we named her the Brave.

We left the black flag there to continue its mournful office, for we had