“The vengeful English have given her to the Holy Inquisition. The Bishop of Beauvais conducted the proceedings, and she has been sentenced to life imprisonment for heresy.” “To life imprisonment! But how could they convict her of heresy?” “They did not convict her. That simple child refuted every charge made against her by her sensible and devout replies to the questions they asked her. They condemned her upon the charge of having intercourse with evil spirits.” “Shameful, it is shameful!” cried Jean, springing up in a rage. “Yes, horrible!” “Farewell, noble sir.” “What? Whither go you?” “To Rouen. You must let me go. I shall not ask the King.” “But what will you do in Rouen?” “Summon help if it be possible. Rescue Joan even if it should cost my life.” “Would that I could go with you! But I could be of no service. You will not accomplish your purpose, my boy. They have not only selected a special tower for her prison, but they have securely bound her with chains fastened to a post that cannot be reached by you. And there are two guards constantly on the watch outside and three inside the prison.” “But even that, noble sir, does not discourage me. It only makes me the more eager to be off; and there is something else that urges me on to Rouen.” “Well, God go with you, my boy. But I warn you to be careful. I wish I could go also. I would ask you to wait until I can be there, but it would not be right. You have waited too long already.” On the next day Jean rode to Rouen in the disguise of a peasant. While going through the recovered districts he rode as fast as the strength of his horse would permit, following the same circuitous route which he took on his first journey. On the last stretch he made a still wider detour, which brought him into his own neighborhood, where he met peasants of his acquaintance, as he had expected. He left his horse with them and pursued his way on foot to Rouen. That city, as well as its vicinity, was in the hands of the enemy, and was so strongly garrisoned that little but English was heard on the streets,—a fact which caused Jean much misgiving. His appearance, however, did not excite attention, for intercourse between city and country had gradually been restored, and the peasants were freely bringing in their products for the market. Jean’s first move was to the church of Saint Ursula. There, at the place by the wall which was so familiar to him, he fell upon his knees, but he could not pray. He could hear his heart beating as he listened; but when he found that he was listening in vain and that there was no sign of life on the other side of the wall, he became more composed, and prayed fervently to Heaven for help. Upon his return to his lodgings he passed himself off for one of the curious crowd which was pouring in from near and far to see “the witch.”