The Executioner's Knife; Or, Joan of ArcSue, Eugène
General
The Executioner's Knife; Or, Joan of Arc
Sue, Eugène
Biographical fiction; Christian fiction; Christian women saints -- Fiction; Joan, of Arc, Saint, 1412-1431 -- Fiction
That July day of the year 1425 decided the future of Joan Darc. The
brilliant light that had dazzled her eyes, the mysterious voice that had
sounded in her ear, were the first communications of the spirits that
protected Joan, or of _her saints_, as she expressed herself in later
years. Differently from most other visionaries, whose hallucinations,
disconnected and aimless, floated at the caprice of their disordered
minds, the communications to Joan from the invisible world were ever
connected with their original cause--her horror of the English and her
wish to drive them out of Gaul. Finally, her spirit, nursed by the
mysterious legends of her god-mother; her imagination struck by the
prophecy of Merlin; her heart filled with ineffable compassion for the
young King, whom she believed worthy of interest; above all deeply
affected by the shocking ills to which the rustics of her condition
were exposed by the acts of rapine and sanguinary violence of the
English; and, finally, feeling against the invaders the dauntless hatred
with which William of the Swallows and Grand-Ferre--obscure heroes, sons
of the Jacquerie and precursors of the shepherdess of Domremy--pursued
them, Joan was driven to look upon herself as called upon to thrust the
strangers out of France and restore to the King his throne.
CHAPTER XII.
RETURNING VISIONS.
During the next three years, from July, 1425, to February, 1429, that is
from Joan's fourteenth to her seventeenth year, the communications from
the spirit world became ever more and more frequent. Joan saw St.
Marguerite and St. Catherine approach her with smiles on their faces and
tenderly embrace her.[17] At other times it was the archangel St.
Michael who appeared before her, holding his flaming sword in one hand
and in the other the crown of France. Again, a multitude of angels
played before her wondering eyes in the midst of an immense and dazzling
ray of light that shot out from heaven, wherein they gamboled like the
atoms that swarm before our eyes in a ray of sunlight across a dark
space.[18] Hardly a day went by but that, especially after the ringing
of the bells, Joan heard the voice of her dear saints saying to her:
"Joan, run to the assistance of the King of France! You will drive away
the English! You will restore the crown to the gentle Sire!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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