In July, 1428, a fresh invasion of Burgundians occurred at Domremy, and redoubled the popular excitement there. Shortly afterwards, the report touching the siege of Orleans arrived there. Joan, more and more passionately possessed with her idea, returned to Vaucouleurs. “I must go,” said she to Sire de Baudricourt, “for to raise the siege of Orleans. I will go, should I have to wear off my legs to the knee.” She had returned to Vaucouleurs without taking leave of her parents. “Had I possessed,” said she, in 1431, to her judges at Rouen, “a hundred fathers and a hundred mothers, and had I been a king’s daughter, I should have gone.” Baudricourt, impressed without being convinced, did not oppose her remaining at Vaucouleurs, and sent an account of this singular young girl to Duke Charles of Lorraine, at Nancy, and perhaps even, according to some chronicles, to the king’s court. Joan lodged at Vaucouleurs in a wheelwright’s house, and passed three weeks there, spinning with her hostess, and dividing her time between work and church. There was much talk in Vaucouleurs of her, and her visions, and her purpose. John of Metz [also called John of Novelompont], a knight serving with Sire de Baudricourt, desired to see her, and went to the wheelwright’s. “What do you here, my dear?” said he; “must the king be driven from his kingdom, and we become English?” “I am come hither,” answered Joan, “to speak to Robert de Baudricourt, that he may be pleased to take me or have me taken to the king; but he pays no heed to me or my words. However, I must be with the king before the middle of Lent, for none in the world, nor kings, nor dukes, nor daughter of the Scottish king can recover the kingdom of France; there is no help but in me. Assuredly I would far rather be spinning beside my poor mother, for this other is not my condition; but I must go and do the work because my Lord wills that I should do it.” “Who is your lord?” “The Lord God.” “By my faith,” said the knight, seizing Joan’s hands, “I will take you to the king, God helping. When will you set out?” “Rather now than to-morrow; rather to-morrow than later.” Vaucouleurs was full of the fame and the sayings of Joan. Another knight, Bertrand de Poulengy, offered, as John of Metz had, to be her escort, Duke Charles of Lorraine wished to see her, and sent for her to Nancy. Old and ill as he was, he had deserted the duchess his wife, a virtuous lady, and was leading anything but a regular life. He asked Joan’s advice about his health. “I have no power to cure you,” said Joan, “but go back to your wife and help me in that for which God ordains me.” The duke ordered her four golden crowns, and she returned to Vaucouleurs, thinking of nothing but her departure. There was no want of confidence and good will on the part of the inhabitants of Vaucouleurs in forwarding her preparations. John of Metz, the knight charged to accompany her, asked her if she intended to make the journey