[Footnote 994: _Ibid._, vol. iii, p. 24. Cf. _Ibid._, pp. 7, 8 (the evidence of Dunois amounts to much the same).] "My daughter," he said to the Maid, "their force is great and they are strongly intrenched. It will be a difficult matter to turn them out."[995] [Footnote 995: _Chronique de la fete_, in _Trial_, vol. v, p. 291.] If notary Guillaume Girault, if draper Jean Luillier, if Messire Jean de Macon, instead of fostering these gloomy ideas, had counted the numbers of the besieged and the besieging, they would have found that the former were more numerous than the latter; and that the army of Scales, of Suffolk, of Talbot appeared mean and feeble when compared with the great besieging armies of the reign of King Henry V. Had they looked a little more closely they would have perceived that the bastions, with the formidable names of London and of Paris, were powerless to prevent either corn, cattle, pigs, or men-at-arms being brought into the city; and that these gigantic dolls were being mocked at by the dealers, who, with their beasts, passed by them daily. In short, they would have realised that the people of Orleans were for the moment better off than the English. But they had examined nothing for themselves. They were content to abide by public opinion which is seldom either just or correct. The Maid did not share Messire Jean de Macon's illusions. She knew no more of the English than he did; yet because she was a saint, she replied tranquilly: "With God all things are possible."[996] And Maitre Jean de Macon thought it well that such should be her opinion. [Footnote 996: _Chronique de la fete_, in _Trial_, vol. v, p. 291.] What aggravated the trouble, the danger, and the panic of the situation, was that the citizens believed they were betrayed. They recollected the Count of Clermont at the Battle of the Herrings, and they suspected the King's men of deserting them once again. After having done so much and spent so much they saw themselves given up to the English. This idea made them mad.[997] There was a rumour that the Marshal de Boussac, who had started with my Lord the Bastard to meet the second convoy of supplies, and who was to return on Tuesday the 3rd, would not come back. It was said that the Chancellor of France wanted to disband the army. It was absurd. On the contrary, great efforts for the deliverance of the city were being made by the King's Council and that of the Queen of Sicily. But the people's brains had been turned by their long suffering and their terrible danger. A more reasonable fear was lest any mishap should occur on the road from Blois like that which had overtaken the force at Rouvray. The Maid's comrades were infected with the anxieties of the townsfolk; one of them betrayed his fears to her, but she was not affected by them. With the radiant tranquillity of the illuminated, she said:[998] "The Marshal will come. I am confident that no harm will happen to him."[999]