much at stake.
Did that please Bishop Cauchon? It did not. He burst out upon
Lohier with the most savage cursings, and swore he would have
him drowned. Lohier escaped from Rouen and got out of France
with all speed, and so saved his life.
Well, as I have said, the second trial was over, without definite
result. But Cauchon did not give up. He could trump up another.
And still another and another, if necessary. He had the
half-promise of an enormous prize–the Archbishopric of Rouen–if
he should succeed in burning the body and damning to hell the
soul of this young girl who had never done him any harm; and
such a prize as that, to a man like the Bishop of Beauvais, was
worth the burning and damning of fifty harmless girls, let alone
one.
So he set to work again straight off next day; and with high
confidence, too, intimating with brutal cheerfulness that he should
succeed this time. It took him and the other scavengers nine days
to dig matter enough out of Joan’s testimony and their own
inventions to build up the new mass of charges. And it was a
formidable mass indeed, for it numbered sixty-six articles.
This huge document was carried to the castle the next day, March
27th; and there, before a dozen carefully selected judges, the new
trial was begun.
Opinions were taken, and the tribunal decided that Joan should
hear the articles read this time.
Maybe that was on account of Lohier’s remark upon that head; or
maybe it was hoped that the reading would kill the prisoner with
fatigue–for, as it turned out, this reading occupied several days. It
was also decided that Joan should be required to answer squarely
to every article, and that if she refused she should be considered
convicted. You see, Cauchon was managing to narrow her chances
more and more all the time; he was drawing the toils closer and
closer.
Joan was brought in, and the Bishop of Beauvais opened with a
speech to her which ought to have made even himself blush, so
laden it was with hypocrisy and lies. He said that this court was
composed of holy and pious churchmen whose hearts were full of
benevolence and compassion toward her, and that they had no
wish to hurt her body, but only a desire to instruct her and lead her
into the way of truth and salvation.
Why, this man was born a devil; now think of his describing
himself and those hardened slaves of his in such language as that.
And yet, worse was to come. For now having in mind another of
Lohier’s h8ints, he had the cold effrontery to make to Joan a
proposition which, I think, will surprise you when you hear it. He
said that this court, recognizing her untaught estate and her
inability to deal with the complex and difficult matters which were
about to be considered, had determined, out of their pity and their
mercifulness, to allow her to choose one or more persons out of
their own number to help her with counsel and advice!
Think of that–a court made up of Loyseleur and his breed of
reptiles. It was granting leave to a lamb to ask help of a wolf. Joan
looked up to see if he was serious, and perceiving that he was at
least pretending to be, she declined, of course.
The Bishop was not expecting any other reply. He had made a
show of fairness and could have it entered on the minutes,
therefore he was satisfied.
Then he commanded Joan to answer straitly to every accusation;
and threatened to cut her off from the Church if she failed to do
that or delayed her answers beyond a given length of time.
Yes, he was narrowing her chances down, step by step.
Thomas de Courcelles began the reading of that interminable
document, article by article. Joan answered to each article in its
turn; sometimes merely denying its truth, sometimes by saying her
answer would be found in the records of the previous trials.
What a strange document that was, and what an exhibition and
exposure of the heart of man, the one creature authorized to boast