The vanguard moved out at dawn and took the road, with bands braying and
banners flying; the second division followed at eight. Then came the
Burgundian ambassadors, and lost us the rest of that day and the whole of
the next. But Joan was on hand, and so they had their journey for their
pains. The rest of us took the road at dawn, next morning, July 20th. And
got how far? Six leagues. Tremouille was getting in his sly work with the
vacillating King, you see. The King stopped at St. Marcoul and prayed
three days. Precious time lost--for us; precious time gained for Bedford.
He would know how to use it.

We could not go on without the King; that would be to leave him in the
conspirators' camp. Joan argued, reasoned, implored; and at last we got
under way again.

Joan's prediction was verified. It was not a campaign, it was only
another holiday excursion. English strongholds lined our route; they
surrendered without a blow; we garrisoned them with Frenchmen and passed
on. Bedford was on the march against us with his new army by this time,
and on the 25th of July the hostile forces faced each other and made
preparation for battle; but Bedford's good judgment prevailed, and he
turned and retreated toward Paris. Now was our chance. Our men were in
great spirits.

Will you believe it? Our poor stick of a King allowed his worthless
advisers to persuade him to start back for Gien, whence he had set out
when we first marched for Rheims and the Coronation! And we actually did
start back. The fifteen-day truce had just been concluded with the Duke
of Burgundy, and we would go and tarry at Gien until he should deliver
Paris to us without a fight.