But it was fortune of war.

So, half in a dream, we reached our house, and there was the greatest concourse of townsfolk clamouring in the praise of the Maid, who showed herself to them from the window, and promised that to-morrow they should take Les Tourelles.

That night was Friday, yet, so worn were we all that the Maid bade us sup, and herself took some meat and a little wine in her water, though commonly she fasted on Friday.

And now we were about to boun us for bed, and the Maid had risen, and was standing with her arms passed about the neck of the daughter of the house, a fair lass and merry, called Charlotte Boucher, who always lay with her (for she had great joy to be with girls of her own age), when there came the sound of a dagger-hilt beating at the door.

We opened, and there stood a tall knight, who louted low to the Maid, cap in hand, and she bade him drink to the taking of Les Tourelles that should be to-morrow.
But he, with the flagon full in his hands, and withal a thirsty look upon his face, shook his head.
"To another pledge, Maiden, I will gladly drink, namely, to the bravest damsel under the sky." And therewith he drank deep.
"But now I am sent from Gaucourt, and the Bastard, for all the captains are in counsel again.