But of that the Maid made light.
"The hearts of the people will turn towards us," she said.

"They have submitted to the English yoke; but they are Frenchmen still.
Once let them see that the power of the enemy is broken, and they will rally to our standard.

But precious time should not be lost.
The Dauphin should place himself at the head of such an army as he can spare for the march, and journey forthwith to Rheims.

There shall the crown be set upon his head--the pledge and earnest that one day he shall rule the whole realm of France, as his fathers did before him!" And so, before a week had passed, we set forth with the Maid to go to the King, who had by this time moved his Court from Chinon to Loches, another fortress upon the Loire, where there was space for his train, and which could, if necessary, be fortified against a siege.
It was a strange journey--more like a triumphal progress than anything we had yet met with.

The fame of the Maid and her miraculous exploit in the matter of the siege of Orleans had gone before her, and from every town or village through which she passed the people flocked out to see her, bearing garlands and banners, crowding about her, asking her blessing, seeking to touch her, pouring out blessings and praises, so that the heart of anyone less filled with the humility which comes from above must needs have been altogether puffed up and filled with pride.
But it was never so with the Maid.