had already been decided by its superior, a court of higher authority.
Imagine it! No, the case could not properly be tried again. Cauchon could
not properly preside in this new court, for more than one reason:

Rouen was not in his diocese; Joan had not been arrested in her domicile,
which was still Domremy; and finally this proposed judge was the
prisoner's outspoken enemy, and therefore he was incompetent to try her.
Yet all these large difficulties were gotten rid of. The territorial
Chapter of Rouen finally granted territorial letters to Cauchon--though
only after a struggle and under compulsion. Force was also applied to the
Inquisitor, and he was obliged to submit.

So then, the little English King, by his representative, formally
delivered Joan into the hands of the court, but with this reservation: if
the court failed to condemn her, he was to have her back again! Ah,
dear, what chance was there for that forsaken and friendless child?
Friendless, indeed--it is the right word. For she was in a black dungeon,
with half a dozen brutal common soldiers keeping guard night and day in
the room where her cage was--for she was in a cage; an iron cage, and
chained to her bed by neck and hands and feet. Never a person near her
whom she had ever seen before; never a woman at all. Yes, this was,
indeed, friendlessness.

Now it was a vassal of Jean de Luxembourg who captured Joan and
Compiegne, and it was Jean who sold her to the Duke of Burgundy. Yet this
very De Luxembourg was shameless enough to go and show his face to Joan
in her cage. He came with two English earls, Warwick and Stafford. He was
a poor reptile. He told her he would get her set free if she would
promise not to fight the English any more. She had been in that cage a
long time now, but not long enough to break her spirit. She retorted