On this way (the same is a road of the old Romans) the English held a strong fort, called St.Loup, and well might they have sallied forth against us.
But the people of Orleans, who ever bore themselves more hardily than any townsfolk whom I have known, made an onfall against St.Loup, that the English within might not sally out against us, where was fierce fighting, and they took a standard from the English.
So, at nightfall, the Maid, with the Bastard and other captains at her side, rode into the town, all the people welcoming her with torches in hand, shouting Noel! as to a king, throwing flowers before her horse's feet, and pressing to touch her, or even the harness of her horse, which leaped and plunged, for the fire of a torch caught the fringe of her banner.

Lightly she spurred and turned him, and lightly she caught at the flame with her hand and quenched it, while all men marvelled at her grace and goodly bearing.
Never saw I more joy of heart, for whereas all had feared to fall into the hands of the English, now there was such courage in them, as if Monseigneur St.Michael himself, or Monseigneur St Aignan, had come down from heaven to help his good town.

If they were hardy before, as indeed they were, now plainly they were full of such might and fury that man might not stand against them.

And soon it was plain that no less fear had fallen on the English.

But the Maid, with us who followed her, was led right through the great street of Orleans, from the Burgundy gate to the gate Regnart, whereby the fighting was ever most fell, and there we lodged in the house of the Treasurer of the Duke of Orleans, Jacquet Boucher.