The Maid pointed to the English keep at St.Jean le Blanc, on our side of the water, and, as it seems, was fain to attack it; but the English had drawn off their men to the stronger places on the bridge, and to hold St.Jean le Blanc against them, if we took it, we had no strength.

So we even wended, from the height of Olivet, for six long miles, till we reached the stream opposite Checy, where was an island.

A rowing-boat, with a knight in glittering arms, was pulled across the stream, and the Maid, in her eagerness, spurred her steed deep into the water to meet him.

He was a young man, brown of visage, hardy and fierce, and on his shield bore the lilies of Orleans, crossed with a baton sinister.

He bowed low to the Maid, who cried-- "Are you the Bastard of Orleans ?" "I am," he said, "and right glad of your coming." "Was it you who gave counsel that I should come by this bank, and not by the other side, and so straight against Talbot and the English ?" She spoke as a master to a faulty groom, fierce and high, and to hear her was marvel.
"I, and wiser men than I, gave that counsel," said he, "deeming this course the surer." "Nom Dieu!" she cried.