Yet I,as young men will,was forward in all ways to serve her,and to win her grace and favour.She was fain to hear of Scotland,her own country,which she had never seen,and I was as fain to tell her.And betimes I would say how fair were the maidens of our own country,and how any man that saw her would know her to be a Scot,though from her tongue,in French,none might guess it.And,knowing that she loved wildflowers,I would search for them and bring them to her,and would lead her to speak of romances which she loved,no less than I,and of pages who had loved queens,and all such matters as young men and maids are wont to devise of;and now she would listen,and at other seasons would seem proud,and as if her mind were otherwhere.Young knights many came to our booth,and looked ill-pleased when I served them,and their eyes were ever on the inner door,watching for Elliot,whom they seldom had sight of.
So here was I,in a double service,who,before I met Brother Thomas,had been free of heart and hand.But,if my master's service irked me,in that other I found comfort,when I could devise with Elliot,as concerning our country and her hopes for the Maid.
But my own hopes were not high,nor could I mark any sign that she favoured me more than another,though I had the joy to be often in her company.And,indeed,what hope could I have,being so young,and poor,and in visible station no more than any 'prentice lad?My heart was much tormented in these fears,and mainly because we heard no tidings that the Maid was accepted by the Dauphin,and that the day of her marching,and of my deliverance from my base craft of painting,was at hand.
It so fell out,how I knew not,whether I had shown me too presumptuous for an apprentice,or because of any other reason,that Elliot had much forborne my company,and was more often in church at her prayers than in the house,or,when in the house,was busy in divers ways,and I scarce ever could get word of her.Finding her in this mood,I also withdrew within myself,and was both proud and sorely unhappy,longing more than ever to take my own part in the world as a man-at-arms.Now,one day right early,I being alone in the chamber,copying a psalter,Elliot came in,looking for her father.I rose at her coming,doffing my cap,and told her,in few words,that my master had gone forth.Thereon she flitted about the chamber,looking at this and that,while I stood silent,deeming that she used me in a sort scarce becoming my blood and lineage.
Suddenly she said,without turning round,for she was standing by a table gazing at the pictures in a Book of Hours -"I have seen her!""The Pucelle?--do you speak of her,gentle maid?""I saw her and spoke to her,and heard her voice";and here her own broke,and I guessed that she was near to weeping."I went up within the castle precinct,to the tower Coudraye,"she said,"for Iknew that she lodged hard by,with a good woman who dwells there.Ipassed into the chapel of St.Martin on the cliff,and there heard the voice of one praying before the image of Our Lady.The voice was even as you said that day--the sweetest of voices.I knelt beside her,and prayed aloud for her and for France.She rested her hand on my hair--her hair is black,and cut "en ronde"like a man's.
It is true that they say,she dresses in man's garb.We came forth together,and I put my hand into hers,and said,"I believe in you;if none other believes,yet do I believe."Then she wept,and she kissed me;she is to visit me here to-morrow,la fille de Dieu--"She drew a long sob,and struck her hand hard on the table;then,keeping her back ever towards me,she fled swiftly from the room.Iwas amazed--so light of heart as she commonly seemed,and of late disdainful--to find her in this passion.Yet it was to me that she had spoken--to me that she had opened her heart.Now I guessed that,if I was ever to win her,it must be through this Pucelle,on whom her mind was so strangely bent.So I prayed that,if it might be God's will,He would prosper the Maid,and let me be her loyal servitor,and at last bring me to my desire.
Something also I dreamed,as young men will who have read many romances,of myself made a knight for great feats of arms,and wearing in my salade my lady's favour,and breaking a spear on Talbot,or Fastolf,or Glasdale,in some last great victory for France.
Then shone on my eyesight,as it were,the picture of these two children,for they were little more,Elliot and the Maid,kneeling together in the chapel of St.Martin,the gold hair and the black blended;and what were they two alone against this world and the prince of this world?Alas,how much,and again how little,doth prayer avail us!These thoughts were in my mind all day,while serving and answering customers,and carrying my master's wares about the town,and up to the castle on the cliff,where the soldiers and sentries now knew me well enough,and the Scots archers treated me kindly.But as for Elliot,she was like her first self again,and merrier than common with her father,to whom,as far as my knowledge went,she said not a word about the meeting in the crypt of St.Martin's chapel,though to me she had spoken so freely.
