of soldiers once, if you want to see what running is like. Here’s
little Joan–next she’ll be threatening to go for a soldier!”
The idea was so funny, and got such a good laugh, that the Paladin
gave it another trial, and said: “Why you can just see her!–see her
plunge into battle like any old veteran. Yes, indeed; and not a poor
shabby common soldier like us, but an officer–an officer, mind
you, with armor on, and the bars of a steel helmet to blush behind
and hide her embarrassment when she finds an army in front of her
that she hasn’t been introduced to. An officer? Why, she’ll be a
captain! A captain, I tell you, with a hundred men at her back–or
maybe girls. Oh, no common-soldier business for her! And, dear
me, when she starts for that other army, you’ll think there’s a
hurricane blowing it away!”
Well, he kept it up like that till he made their sides ache with
laughing; which was quite natural, for certainly it was a very funny
idea–at that time–I mean, the idea of that gentle little creature,
that wouldn’t hurt a fly, and couldn’t bear the sight of blood, and
was so girlish and shrinking in all ways, rushing into battle with a
gang of soldiers at her back. Poor thing, she sat there confused and
ashamed to be so laughed at; and yet at that very minute there was
something about to happen which would change the aspect of
things, and make those young people see that when it comes to
laughing, the person that laughs last has the best chance. For just
then a face which we all knew and all feared projected itself from
behind the Fairy Tree, and the thought that shot through us all was,
crazy Benoist has gotten loose from his cage, and we are as good
as dead! This ragged and hairy and horrible creature glided out
from behind the tree, and raised an ax as he came. We all broke
and fled, this way and that, the girls screaming and crying. No, not
all; all but Joan. She stood up and faced the man, and remained so.
As we reached the wood that borders the grassy clearing and
jumped into its shelter, two or three of us glanced back to see if
Benoist was gaining on us, and that is what we saw–Joan standing,
and the maniac gliding stealthily toward her with his ax lifted. The
sight was sickening. We stood where we were, trembling and not
able to move. I did not want to see the murder done, and yet I
could not take my eyes away. Now I saw Joan step forward to meet
the man, though I believed my eyes must be deceiving me. Then I
saw him stop. He threatened her with his ax, as if to warn her not
to come further, but she paid no heed, but went steadily on, until
she was right in front of him–right under his ax. Then she stopped,
and seemed to begin to talke with him. It made me sick, yes,
giddy, and everything swam around me, and I could not see
anything for a time–whether long or brief I do not know. When
this passed and I looked again, Joan was walking by the man’s side
toward the village, holding him by his hand. The ax was in her
other hand.
One by one the boys and girls crept out, and we stood there gazing,
open-mouthed, till those two entered the village and were hid from
sight. It was then that we named her the Brave.
We left the black flag there to continue its mournful office, for we
had other matter to think of now. We started for the village on a
run, to give warning, and get Joan out of her peril; though for one,
after seeing what I had seen, it seemed to me that while Joan had
the ax the man’s chance was not the best of the two. When we
arrived the danger was past, the madman was in custody. All the
people were flocking to the little square in front of the church to