"The King's word has prevailed, O my friend," she said, "but I
would that I were sure it will be for the best!"
"How can it be otherwise than for the best?" I answered as I held
her hand in mine, and looked searchingly into her fair, grave face.
"Will not your Lord help you yet? Do not all men trust in you? Will
not the soldiers fight for and with you? And are you not sure in
your heart that the cause of the French King will yet triumph?"
Her eyes were misty with unshed tears as she made reply:
"I know that my Lord will not desert me; and I trust I may serve
Him yet, and the King whom I love. I know that all will be well--at
the last--for this fair realm of France. But I have no commission
direct from my Lord as I have had hitherto. My voices yet speak
gentle and kindly words. I trow that my saints will watch over me,
and that they will give me strength to strive and to overcome. For
myself I fear not--I am ready to die for my King and my country if
that be the will of God. Only the shadow lies athwart my path,
where until today all was brightness and sunshine.
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