Certain Scots that found me, weak and bleeding, by the riverside, were sent by the Maid, in hopes that I had saved Glasdale, whereas it was the accursed cordelier I had won from the water.

What they did with him I knew not then, but me they laid on a litter, and so bore me to a boat, wherein they were ferrying our wounded men across to Orleans.

The Maid herself, as she had foretold, returned by way of the bridge, that was all bright with moving torches, as our groaning company were rowed across the black water to a quay.

Thence I was carried in a litter to our lodgings, and so got to bed, a physician doing what he might for me.

A noisy night we passed, for I verily believe that no man slept, but all, after service held in the Church of St.Aignan, went revelling and drinking from house to house, and singing through the streets, as folk saved from utter destruction.
With daybreak fell a short silence; short or long, it seemed brief to me, who was now asleep at last, and I was rueful enough when a sound aroused me, and I found the Maid herself standing by my bedside, with one in the shadow behind her.