What the Generals had meant for a mere feint, the Maid turned into a desperate battle.

The English were reinforced many times; it seemed as though we had a hopeless task before us.

But confidence and assurance of victory were in our hearts as we saw our Deliverer stand in the thick of the fight and heard her clarion voice ringing over the field.

Ere the shades of night fell, not only was Les Augustins ours, but its stores of food and ammunition had been safely transported into the city, and the place so destroyed and dismantled that never again could it be a source of peril to the town.
And now the Maid's eyes were fixed full upon the frowning bulk of Les Tourelles, rising grim and black against the darkening sky, with its little "tower of the Boulevard," on this side the drawbridge.

Thither had the whole English force retired--all who were not lying dead or desperately wounded on the plain or round the gutted tower of Les Augustins--we saw their threatening faces looking down fiercely upon us, and heard the angry voices from the walls, heaping abuse and curses upon the "White Witch," who had wrought them this evil.
"Would that we could attack at once!" spoke the Maid.