aside, there were veiled glimpses of an upturned face and moving
lips. At last a mercifully swift tide of flame burst upward, and
none saw that face any more nor that form, and the voice was still.
Yes, she was gone from us: JOAN OF ARC! What little words they
are, to tell of a rich world made empty and poor!
CONCLUSION
JOAN’S BROTHER Jacques died in Domremy during the Great
Trial at Rouen. This was sccording to the prophecy which Joan
made that day in the pastures the time that she said the rest of us
would go to the great wars.
When her poor old father heard of the martyrdom it broke his
heart, and he died.
The mother was granted a pension by the city of Orleans, and upon
this she lived out her days, which were many. Twenty-four years
after her illustrious child’s death she traveled all the way to Paris in
the winter-time and was present at the opening of the discussion in
the Cathedral of Notre Dame which was the first step in the
Rehabilitation. Paris was crowded with people, from all about
France, who came to get sight of the venerable dame, and it was a
touching spectacle when she moved through these reverent
wet-eyed multitudes on her way to the grand honors awaiting her
at the cathedral. With her were Jean and Pierre, no longer the
light-hearted youths who marched with us from Vaucouleurs, but
war-torn veterans with hair beginning to show frost.
After the martyrdom No‰l and I went back to Domremy, but
presently when the Constable Richemont superseded La
Tremouille as the King’s chief adviser and began the completion of
Joan’s great work, we put on our harness and returned to the field
and fought for the King all through the wars and skirmishes until
France was freed of the English. It was what Joan would have
desired of us; and, dead or alive, her desire was law for us. All the
survivors of the personal staff were faithful to her memory and
fought for the King to the end. Mainly we were well scattered, but
when Paris fell we happened to be together. It was a great day and
a joyous; but it was a sad one at the same time, because Joan was
not there to march into the captured capital with us.
No‰l and I remained always together, and I was by his side when
death claimed him. It was in the last great battle of the war. In that
battle fell also Joan’s sturdy old enemy Talbot. He was eighty-five
years old, and had spent his whole life in battle. A fine old lion he
was, with his flowing white mane and his tameless spirit; yes, and
his indestructible energy as well; for he fought as knighly and
vigorous a fight that day as the best man there.
La Hire survived the martyrdom thirteen years; and always
fighting, of course, for that was all he enjoyed in life. I did not see
him in all that time, for we were far apart, but one was always
hearing of him.
The Bastard of Orleans and D’Alen‡on and D’Aulon lived to see
France free, and to testify with Jean and Pierre d’Arc and Pasquerel
and me at the Rehabilitation. But they are all at rest now, these
many years. I alone am left of those who fought at the side of Joan
of Arc in the great wars.
She said I would live until those wars were forgotten–a prophecy
which failed. If I should live a thousand years it would still fail.
For whatsoever had touch with Joan of Arc, that thing is immortal.
Members of Joan’s family married, and they have left descendants.
Their descendants are of the nobility, but their family name and
blood bring them honors which no other nobles receive or may
hope for. You have seen how everybody along the way uncovered
when those children came yesterday to pay their duty to me. It was
not because they are noble, it is because they are grandchildren of
the brothers of Joan of Arc.
Now as to the Rehabilitation. Joan crowned the King at Rheims.