But the English so cried their hurrah, that it was marvel, and our men gave back in fear; and had not the Bastard come up with a fresh company, verify we might well have been swept into the Loire.
Some while I remained with Rutherford, Kennedy, and many others, for what could we avail to help the Maid?
and to run has an ill look, and gives great heart to an enemy.

Moreover, that saying of the Maid came into my mind, that she should be smitten of a bolt, but not unto death.

So I even abode by the fosse, and having found an arbalest, my desire was to win a chance of slaying Brother Thomas, wherefore I kept my eyes on that archere whence he had shot.

But no arbalest was pointed thence, and the fight flagged.

On both sides men were weary, and they took some meat as they might, no ladders being now set on the wall.
Then I deemed it no harm to slip back to the vineyard where the Maid lay, and there I met the good Father Pasquerel, that was her confessor.