Eight days--eight days of the Maid--and the seven-months' siege was raised! Was it wonderful they should hunger for her presence amongst them?
Was it wonderful that every house should seek to hang out a white banner in honour of the Angelic Maid, and her pure whiteness of soul and body?
"I will come to you by the bridge," had been her own word; and now, behold, the bridge was there! Like Trojans had the men worked beneath the eagle eyes of La Hire.

An army had already crossed from the city; now that their task was done, the Maid's white charger had been led across, and the cry was all for her, for her; that she should let the people see her alive and well, now that her task was accomplished and Orleans was free! She let us mount her upon her horse, and D'Aulon marched in front with the great white standard.

Weary and white and wan was she, with the stress of the fight, with the pain and loss of blood from her wound, above all, with her deep, unfailing pity for the sufferings she had been forced to witness, for the souls gone to their last account without the sacred offices of the Church.
All this weighed upon her young spirit, and gave a strange, ethereal loveliness to her pale face and shining eyes.

Methought she seemed almost more like some angelic presence in our midst than a creature of human flesh and blood.
The Generals formed an advance guard before her.

The soldiers followed, rank behind rank, in the rear.