"Has none seen that white shadow before but me?"

"No one. It has fallen upon me before when you and others were present,
but none could see it. To-day it has been otherwise, and I was told why;
but it will not be visible again to any."

"It was a sign to me, then--and a sign with a meaning of some kind?"

"Yes, but I may not speak of that."

"Strange--that that dazzling light could rest upon an object before one's
eyes and not be visible."

"With it comes speech, also. Several saints come, attended by myriads of
angels, and they speak to me; I hear their voices, but others do not.
They are very dear to me--my Voices; that is what I call them to myself."

"Joan, what do they tell you?"

"All manner of things--about France, I mean."

"What things have they been used to tell you?"

She sighed, and said:

"Disasters--only disasters, and misfortunes, and humiliation. There was
naught else to foretell."

"They spoke of them to you beforehand?" "Yes. So that I knew what was
going to happen before it happened. It made me grave--as you saw. It