"I do know, gentle duke. My Voices have told me. Paris would have been ours had we but persisted in the attack, and in a few months northern France would have been clear of the English. Now it will take twenty years to drive them out." "Twenty years," repeated Alençon aghast. "Have your voices told you that also, Jeanne?" "Yes, fair duke. And the pity of it! Oh, the pity of it!" "The pity of it," he echoed. "For now we must start for the Loire, leaving all these cities and towns that have made submission to Charles to the mercies of the Regent. They have written piteous letters to the King, entreating him not to abandon them, but he consoles them by telling them that he is withdrawing because he does not wish to strip the country to feed the army; yet the English are left free to harry the towns, and their state will be worse than before they made submission. We should not leave." "I shall not go," returned Jeanne quietly. "My Voices have told me to remain at St. Denys. I shall obey them." She reckoned without her host. When the King was ready to march he commanded her attendance. She refused to go. She had never disobeyed her Heavenly Guides, she told him, so she gave the King her duty, and begged of him to let her stay. Charles was not minded to do this, so he ordered that she be brought along. Jeanne's wound was not yet healed, and she was scarcely able to get about. So the helpless maiden was forced against her will to go with the King. It was a dreary march back to Gien, but it was made quickly. So eager was the King to return to his amusements that the one hundred and fifty miles' distance from St. Denys to Gien was traversed in eight days. When the city was reached Charles disbanded the army; so that of all the great number of men who had set forth from the place three months agone with banners flying nothing remained but the men of the King's body guard. Some were free lances from many lands, but for the most part they were French gentlemen who had served without pay for the love of France and the Maid. Jeanne took farewell of them with sadness: the brave Dunois, the bold La Hire, Poton Zaintrailles, Boussac, Culent, and others. The great army was never mustered again. Normandy, being an English possession, was exempt from the truce, so Alençon prayed permission to lead troops against the English strongholds there, wishing also to take the Maid with him. "For many," he said, "would come with them for her sake who would not budge without her."