been few, he had already done a good deal of boasting; and was
pointed out by other boys on the street as a person of special
distinction. "Tell me about the battle, Father," he begged.

His Father lifted his tired eyes to a statue of Jeanne d'Arc,
which was in plain sight from where he lay. "Well, my boy," he
said after a pause, "there is much I should not wish you to know,
but this I will tell you. On the day the battle turned, the
watchword of the Army was Jeanne d'Arc. Our soldiers sprang to
the attack with her name upon their lips, and some have sworn to
me that they saw her ride before us into battle on her white
charger, carrying in her hand the very banner which you see there
upon the altar. I do not know whether or not it is true, but
certainly the victory was with us, and I for my part find it easy
to be lieve that our blessed Saint Jeanne has not forgotten
France." He raised himself a little on his elbow and pointed to a
place not far distant in the nave. "There," he said, "is the very
spot upon which she knelt while her king was being crowned here
in our Cathedral after she had driven our enemies from French
soil and had given him his throne! The happiest moments of her
life were here! What place should be revisited by her pure spirit
if not Rheims? My children, I wish you every day to pray that she
may come again to deliver France!" Exhausted by emotion and by
the effort he had made, he sank back upon the straw and closed
his eyes.

Pierrette took his hand. "Dear papa, she said, "every day we will
pray to her as you say, and give thanks to the Bon Dieu that your
life has been spared to us. If only your poor leg--" she stopped,
overcome by tears.