distinctly human impression of the worn out prisoner before her judges.
"And immediately the promoter and she refusing to say more, the cause
was concluded," says the record, so formal, sustained within such
purely abstract limits, yet here and there with a sort of throb and
reverberation of the mortal encounter. From the lips of the Inquisitor
too all words seemed to have been taken. It is as when amid the excited
crowd in the Temple the officers of the Pharisees approaching to lay
hands on a greater than Jeanne, fell back, not knowing why, and could
not do their office. This man was silenced also. Two bishops were
present, and one a great man full of patronage; but not for the richest
living in Normandy could Peter Morice find any more to say.

These are in one sense the words of Jeanne; the last we have from her in
her prison, the last of her consistent and unbroken life. After, there
was a deeper horror to go through, a moment when all her forces failed.
Here on the verge of eternity she stands heroic and unyielding, brave,
calm, and steadfast as at the outset of her career, the Maid of France.
Were the fires lighted and the faggots burning, and she herself within
the fire, she had no other word to say.

(1) It is correct in French to use the second person plural
in addressing God, _thou_ being a more intimate and less
respectful form of speech. Such a difference is difficult to
remember, and troubles the ear. The French, even those who
ought to know better, sometimes speak of it as a supreme
profanity on the part of the profane English, that they
address God as _thou_.

(2) The French report goes on, "et requiert ----," but no
more. It is not in the Latin. The scribe was stopped by the