words of my grandfather who keeps the grocery shop. 'You will be saved.'
It seemed to me that the voice was young and gentle and like a woman's.

"'Who are you?' I asked, and I had a strange feeling, afraid a little
M'sieur, yet glad to a marvel. I got no answer to my question, but I
felt something pressed into my hand, and then I spoke, but I suppose I
was a little delirious, M'sieur, for I heard myself say a thing I had
not been thinking. 'A Martel must return to France to find the silver
stirrup'--I said that, M'sieur. Why I do not know. They were the words I
had heard my grandfather speak. Perhaps the hard feeling in my hand--but
I cannot explain, M'sieur le Docteur. In any case, there was all at once
a great thrill through my body, such as I have never known. I sat up
quickly and stared at the figure. It stood there. M'sieur will probably
not believe me--the figure stood there in white armor, with a sword--and
I knew it for Jeanne--the Maid. With that I knew no more. When I woke it
was day. I was still lying in the crater of the shell which had torn up
the earth of a very old battle-field, but in my hand I held
tight--this."

Philippe drew off the last cover with a dramatic flourish and opened the
box which had been wrapped so carefully. I bent over him. In the box,
before my eyes, lay an ancient worn and battered silver stirrup. There
were no words to say. I stared at the boy. And with that suddenly he had
slewed around clumsily--because of his poor wooden leg--and was on his
knees at my feet. He held out the stirrup.

"M'sieur le Docteur, you gave me a man's chance and honor, and the joy
of fighting for France. I can never tell my thanks. I have nothing to
give you--but this. Take it, M'sieur le Docteur. It is not much, yet to
me the earth holds nothing so valuable. It is the silver stirrup of