Between us and the town of Orleans lay the wide river, the broken bridge, and the camps of the English.

On the further shore we beheld the people swarming on the walls and quays, labouring to launch boats with sails, and so purposing to ascend the river against the stream and meet us two leagues beyond the English lines.

But this they might not do, for a strong wind was blowing down stream, and all their vessels were in disarray.
The Maid spurred to the front, where were De Rais, Lore, Kennedy, and La Hire.

We could see her pointing with her staff, and hear speech high and angry, but the words we could not hear.

The captains looked downcast, as children caught in a fault, and well they might, for we were now as far off victualling Orleans as ever we had been.