But the Maid never moved, save to bend her head in reverence as the
Thrice Holy Name was proclaimed, and as the drops of holy water
fell upon her brow. To me it seemed almost like sacrilege, in face
of that pure and holy calm, to entertain for one moment a doubt of
the origin of her mission. Yet it may be that the test was a wise
one; for De Baudricourt and those about him watched it with close
and breathless wonder, and one and another whispered behind his
hand:
"Of a surety she is no witch. She could never stand thus if there
was aught of evil in her. Truly she is a marvellous Maid. If this
thing be of the Lord, let us not fight against Him."
The trial was over. The Maid received the blessing of the Abbe,
who, if not convinced of the sacredness of her mission, was yet
impotent to prove aught against her. It is strange to me, looking
back at those days, how far less ready of heart the ecclesiastics
were to receive her testimony and recognise in her the messenger of
the Most High than were the soldiers, whether the generals whom she
afterwards came to know, or the men who crowded to fight beneath
her banner.
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