With tears and cries of joy the husbandmen welcomed them. There was food in plenty, too, so the village rejoiced, and life bade fair to be bright once more. Only the wise ones shook their heads ominously. For were they not likely to lose the beasts forever on the morrow? Thus the days passed in the valley; nights of terror; dreams of horror; with war everywhere around; but Jeanne grew and blossomed as the lily grows from the muck of a swamp. ------ [4] Godons--A term applied to the English. [5] From this word we have the English term "tally." CHAPTER V JEANNE'S VISION "_Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent and revealed them unto babes._" ST. MATTHEW 11:25. The summer gave place to winter; winter in turn was succeeded by spring, and again it was summer. Though there were raids in distant parts of the valley, and wild rumors and false alarms, Domremy was mercifully spared a second visitation. A strict watch was still kept, however, for glitter of lance along the highroad, or gleaming among the trees of the forest, but life resumed its tranquil aspect. The men toiled in the fields or the vineyards; women spun and wove, and looked after their households; children played or tended the herds and flocks on the common as of yore. One warm afternoon in late July Jeanne, with others of her playmates, was on the uplands watching the flocks nibble the short green grass. The boys and girls were scattered over the uplands, but Mengette and Hauviette sat with Jeanne under the shade of a tree. The three friends were never very far apart, and as usual their small fingers were busied with the threads of their distaffs. It was a delicious afternoon. The air, though warm, was soft and balmy, and fragrant with the perfume of wild mignonette and linden flowers. In the fields the ripened wheat rippled in the breeze like a yellow sea, and scarlet poppies made great splotches of color against the golden heads. The Meuse flowed sluggishly through dense masses of reeds and bushes, almost hidden by their foliage. A lovely scene, for the Valley of Colors, always beautiful, was never more so than in Summer. A busy scene, too; for men and boys were working in the fields and vineyards, either cradling the ripened grain, or tying up the vines, heavy with bunches of grapes. "The sheep grow restless," spoke Jeanne suddenly, as she noticed that some of the animals were beginning to stray apart from their fellows. "They have nipped the grass clean here. 'Tis time to move them." "And I grow sleepy," cried Mengette, yawning. "We have been here since early morning, so 'tis no wonder. If I keep on pulling threads from this distaff I shall do like Colin yonder: lie down on the grass and go to sleep." "He ought not to sleep while he has the sheep to attend to," declared Hauviette, shaking her head. "They might stray into the vineyards, or the forest, and he would be none the wiser."