“Send and tell the Dauphin to wait, and not offer battle to his enemies; because God will give him help before the middle of Lent. The kingdom belongs not to the Dauphin, but to my Lord; but my Lord wishes that the Dauphin shall be king and hold it in trust. In spite of his enemies he shall be king of France, and I will lead him to be crowned.” “And who is your lord?” demanded the governor with a sneer. “The King of Heaven,” said Joan of Arc proudly. The governor, who was a rough military man, laughed loud and long at the faith of the little peasant girl in a white cap, red petticoat, and wooden shoes. Instead of doing as she asked, he told her uncle to give her a good whipping, to beat the foolishness out of her head, and send her home to her father. Baffled and discouraged, Joan went home with her uncle. But the Voices kept saying in her ears, “Go! go!” Back to the governor she went, but he treated her as badly as before. Then they found another man to whom she told her story and added, “God in Heaven has told me to go to the Dauphin; with His help I must do it, even if I have to go on my knees.” This friendly gentleman was deeply touched by her earnest words. The people in the country who knew and believed in Joan of Arc pleaded with the men of influence in the neighborhood, and it was at last arranged that Joan should go and tell her story to the young king of France. To see if God were guiding her, as she claimed, the king changed places with a noble in his court; but instead of going up to the pretended king who sat in the seat of honor, Joan walked straight to the prince, where he stood behind some men of the court. It is easy to believe what we will. The Dauphin listened to the burning words of the peasant girl with the pure, [Illustration: THE VICTORIOUS RETURN OF JOAN OF ARC TO ORLEANS. _From the painting by J. J. Scherer_] Madonna-like face. After she had won the king’s approval it was not so hard for Joan to go on obeying the Voices. Dressed in a suit of armor which shone like silver, she led a French army to the relief of Orleans. She carried everywhere a beautiful white banner, embroidered with lilies. The English laughed at that silly girl trying to be a man, and called her insulting names; but Joan did not mind, for she felt safe under the protection of the saints in heaven. One day, in an attack upon a fort held by the English, the Maid, as the French army now called her, was wounded in the foot; but she would not stop fighting. She mounted her horse again and led the charge as though nothing had happened. The English then thought she was a witch--that is, a woman working for the devil.