The Maid, blushing now at the tumult of applause,
stretched out her arms, took the little one into them, and held her
in a close embrace whilst she bowed her last graceful thanks to the
joy-maddened crowd. Then she slipped from her horse, and holding
the little one fast by the hand, disappeared into the house, whilst
the people reluctantly dispersed to hear the story all over again
from the soldiers pouring in, each with some tale of his own to
tell of the prowess of THE MAID OF ORLEANS.
Yes, that was the name by which she was henceforth to be known. The
city was wild with joy and pride thus to christen her. And she,
having crossed by the bridge, as she had said, sat down for a brief
while to that festal board which had been spread for her. But
fatigue soon over-mastering her, she retired to her room, only
pausing to look at us all and say:
"Tomorrow is the Lord's own day of rest. Remember that, my friends.
Let there be no fighting, no pursuit, no martial exercise, whatever
the foe may threaten or do. Tomorrow must be a day of thanksgiving
and praise.
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