"Let be. If she thinks it, that is enough. It will happen."

Then Pothon of Santrailles said:

"There were other reasons for declining battle, according to the saying
of your Excellency?"

"Yes. One was that we being weak and the day far gone, the battle might
not be decisive. When it is fought it must be decisive. And it shall be."

"God grant it, and amen. There were still other reasons?"

"One other--yes." She hesitated a moment, then said: "This was not the
day. To-morrow is the day. It is so written."

They were going to assail her with eager questionings, but she put up her
hand and prevented them. Then she said:

"It will be the most noble and beneficent victory that God has vouchsafed
for France at any time. I pray you question me not as to whence or how I
know this thing, but be content that it is so."

There was pleasure in every face, and conviction and high confidence. A
murmur of conversation broke out, but that was interrupted by a messenger
from the outposts who brought news--namely, that for an hour there had
been stir and movement in the English camp of a sort unusual at such a
time and with a resting army, he said. Spies had been sent under cover of
the rain and darkness to inquire into it. They had just come back and
reported that large bodies of men had been dimly made out who were
slipping stealthily away in the direction of Meung.