declared her among the Blessed Ones. To me she is the most blessed
of all. She never thought of herself or of a saint's crown. She
gave her life entire for France. And this is the place that she
came from! Think of that--right here!"

"I did not know that," said the soldier.

"But yes," the priest went on, kindling. "I tell you it was here
that the Maid of France received her visions and set out to her work.
You see that village below us--look out through the branches--that
is Domremy, where she was born. That spire just at the edge of
the wood--you saw that? It is the basilica they have built to her
memory. It is full of pictures of her. It stands where the old
beech-tree, 'Fair May,' used to grow. There she heard the voices
and saw the saints who sent her on her mission. And this is the
Gooseberry Spring, the Well of the Good Fairies. Here she came
with the other children, at the festival of the well-dressing, to
spread their garlands around it, and sing, and cat their supper
on the green. Heavenly voices spoke to her, but the others did not
hear them. Often did she drink of this water. It became a fountain
of life springing up in her heart. I have come to drink at the
same source. It will strengthen me as a sacrament. Come, son, let
us take it together as we go to our duty in battle!"

Father Courcy stood up and opened his old black bag. He took out
a small metal cup. He filled it carefully at the spring. He made
the sign of the cross over it.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," he murmured,
"blessed and holy is this water." Then he held the cup toward the