And so we crossed the hastily-repaired bridge, and entered
by the Bride Gate--or St. Catherine's gate, as it was equally called;
for a figure of St. Catherine stands carved in a niche above the porch,
and I saw the Maid glance upwards at it as she passed through, a smile
upon her lips.
Shall I ever forget the thunder of applause which fell upon our
ears as we passed into the city through the bridge? It was like the
"sound of many waters"--deafening in volume and intensity. And was
it wonder? Had not something very like a miracle been wrought? For
had not rumours reached the city many times that day of the death
of the Deliverer in the hour of victory? None well knew what to
believe till they saw her in their midst, and then the cry which
rent the heavens was such as methinks is heard but once in a
lifetime.
I know not who first spoke the words; but once spoken, they were
caught up by ten thousand lips, and the blazing heavens echoed them
back in great waves of rolling sound:
"THE MAID OF ORLEANS! THE MAID OF ORLEANS! Welcome, honour, glory,
praise to THE MAID OF ORLEANS!"
The people were well-nigh mad with joy; they rushed upon her to
kiss her hands, her knees, the folds of her banner, the neck or the
flanks of her horse.
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