afraid of it, you hate it. If you hate it, you will have nothing
to do with it. And if you have nothing to do with it, it cannot
touch you; it is nothing."

"But for you, a saint, it is easy to say that. You had no fear when
you fought. You knew you would not be killed."

"I was no more sure of that than the other soldiers. Besides, when
they bound me to the stake at Rouen and kindled the fire around me
I knew very well that I should be killed. But there was no fear in
it. Only peace."

"Ah, you were strong, a warrior born. You were not wounded and
broken."

"Four times I was wounded," she answered gravely. "At Orleans a
bolt went through my right shoulder. At Paris a lance tore my thigh.
I never saw the blood of Frenchmen flow without feeling my heart
stand still. I was not a warrior born. I knew not how to ride or
fight. But I did it. What we must needs do that we can do. Soldier,
do not look on the ground. Look up."

Then a strange thing took place before his eyes. A wondrous
radiance, a mist of light, enveloped and hid the shepherdess. When
it melted she was clad in shining armor, sitting on a white horse,
and lifting a bare sword in her left hand.

"God commands you," she cried. "It is for France. Be of good cheer.
Do not retreat. The fort will soon be yours!"