There was no one in the church but the Curé, and the good priest smiled as his little parishioner entered. He was always sure of one auditor, whatever the state of the weather, for Jeanne attended all services. In one transept was an image of Saint Catherine, the patron saint of young girls, and before this the child knelt in prayer. It was deemed presumptuous for Christians to address God directly in prayer at this period, so that prayers were made to the saints, who were asked to make intercession for the suppliant. So Jeanne made her supplication to the saint, and then took her seat, for the people were coming in for the service. Messire Guillaume Frontey, the priest, led them through a short benediction service, and comforted and refreshed,--Jeanne had been much wearied by the day's work and religion was to her as the breath of life,--the child passed out into the garden. There was a sweet coolness in the evening air, and the darkness was soft and agreeable after the glare of the summer sun. So pleasant was the night that Jeanne stopped under an apple tree, loath to enter the warm cottage. Presently, through the darkness, there came the light that she had seen before. A light so bright, so glowing in its radiance that she sank to her knees awed by the luminosity. She was not so frightened as when it had come before, yet still she dared not lift her eyes to gaze upon its wonder. Tremblingly she waited for the voice that she knew would follow. As it spake the bells of the church began to ring for compline. Mingled with their chimes sounded tones so sweet that her eyes filled at their tenderness: "I come from God to help thee live a good and holy life," it said. "Be good, Jeanne, and God will aid thee." That was all. The light faded gradually, and when it was gone Jeanne rose to her feet. "It was the voice of an angel," she whispered in awed tones. "The voice of an angel, and it spoke to me." And from that time forth Jeanne D'Arc had no doubt but that an angel had spoken to her. To children, especially religious little ones, Heaven is always very near, and that one of its denizens should come to them does not seem so improbable as it does to mature minds. For some time she stood lost in wonderment at the miraculous happening, then slowly and thoughtfully she went into the cottage, going at once to her own little room. This room was on the side of the cottage toward the church where the eaves sloped low. From her tiny window she could see the sacred light on the altar, and with hands clasped, Jeanne knelt before the open sash, gazing devoutly upon it. It seemed to her that the threshold of Heaven was reached by that little church. CHAPTER VII FURTHER VISIONS "_Angels are wont to come down to Christians without being seen, but I see them._" JEANNE D'ARC'S _Own Words._ J. E. J. QUICHERAT, "_Condamnation et Réhabilitation de Jeanne d'Arc._" _Vol. I._, p. 130.