The English were crying out that the White Witch was
dead, taunting their foes with being led by a woman, and asking
them where she was gone to now.
Dunois came hurrying up for news of her. The Maid roused herself
and beckoned to him to come to her where she lay, and asked him of
the battle. Dunois told her that the courage of the men seemed
failing, that he thought of sounding the retreat.
For a few moments she lay still; her eyes bent full upon the
blinding blue of the sunny sky. Then she spoke:
"Sound no retreat, my General," she spoke, "but give the men a
breathing space. Let them draw off for a brief moment. Let them eat
and drink and refresh themselves. Tell them that I will come to
them again; and when you and they see my standard floating against
the wall, then know by that token that the place is yours."
Dunois went his way, and soon the sound of the struggle ceased.
There came a strange hush in the heat of the noontide hours. The
Maid lay still a while longer; then raising herself, asked that
water should be brought to cleanse away all stains from her hands
and face and her white armour.
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