Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc v2

Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc v2

by Mark Twain

In Two Volumes

Volume 2.

Chapter 28 Joan Foretells Her Doom

THE TROOPS must have a rest. Two days would be allowed for
this.

The morning of the 14th I was writing from Joan's dictation in a
small room which she sometimes used as a private office when she
wanted to get away from officials and their interruptions.
Catherine Boucher came in and sat down and said:

"Joan, dear, I want you to talk to me."

"Indeed, I am not sorry for that, but glad. What is in your mind?"

"This. I scarcely slept last night, for thinking of the dangers you
are running. The Paladin told me how you made the duke stand out
of the way when the cannon-balls were flying all about, and so
saved his life."

"Well, that was right, wasn't it?"

"Right? Yes; but you stayed there yourself. Why will you do like
that? It seems such a wanton risk."

"Oh, no, it was not so. I was not in any danger."

"How can you say that, Joan, with those deadly things flying all
about you?"

Joan laughed, and tried to turn the subject, but Catherine persisted.
She said:

"It was horribly dangerous, and it could not be necessary to stay in
such a place. And you led an assault again. Joan, it is tempting
Providence. I want you to make me a promise. I want you to
promise me that you will let others lead the assaults, if there must
be assaults, and that you will take better care of yourself in those
dreadful battles. Will you?"

But Joan fought away from the promise and did not give it.
Catherine sat troubled and discontented awhile, then she said:

"Joan, are you going to be a soldier always? These wars are so
long--so long. They last forever and ever and ever."

There was a glad flash in Joan's eye as she cried:

"This campaign will do all the really hard work that is in front of it
in the next four days. The rest of it will be gentler--oh, far less
bloody. Yes, in four days France will gather another trophy like the
redemption of Orleans and make her second long step toward
freedom!"

Catherine started (and do did I); then she gazed long at Joan like
one in a trance, murmuring "four days--four days," as if to herself
and unconsciously. Finally she asked, in a low voice that had
something of awe in it:

"Joan, tell me--how is it that you know that? For you do know it, I
think."

"Yes," said Joan, dreamily, "I know--I know. I shall strike--and
strike again. And before the fourth day is finished I shall strike yet
again." She became silent. We sat wondering and still. This was
for a whole minute, she looking at the floor and her lips moving
but uttering nothing. Then came these words, but hardly audible:
"And in a thousand years the English power in France will not rise
up from that blow."

It made my flesh creep. It was uncanny. She was in a trance
again--I could see it--just as she was that day in the pastures of
Domremy when she prophesied about us boys in the war and
afterward did not know that she had done it. She was not
conscious now; but Catherine did not know that, and so she said,
in a happy voice:

"Oh, I believe it, I believe it, and I am so glad! Then you will come
back and bide with us all your life long, and we will love you so,
and honor you!"

A scarcely perceptible spasm flitted across Joan's face, and the
dreamy voice muttered:

"Before two years are sped I shall die a cruel death!"

I sprang forward with a warning hand up. That is why Catherine
did not scream. She was going to do that--I saw it plainly. Then I
whispered her to slip out of the place, and say nothing of what had
happened. I said Joan was asleep--asleep and dreaming. Catherine
whispered back, and said:

"Oh, I am so grateful that it is only a dream! It sounded like
prophecy." And she was gone.

Like prophecy! I knew it was prophecy; and I sat down crying, as
knowing we should lose her. Soon she started, shivering slightly,
and came to herself, and looked around and saw me crying there,
and jumped out of her chair and ran to me all in a whirl of
sympathy and compassion, and put her hand on my head, and said:

"My poor boy! What is it? Look up and tell me."

I had to tell her a lie; I grieved to do it, but there was no other way.
I picked up an old letter from my table, written by Heaven knows
who, about some matter Heaven knows what, and told her I had
just gotten it from PÅ re Fronte, and that in it it said the children's
Fairy Tree had been chopped down by some miscreant or other,
and-- I got no further. She snatched the letter from my hand and
searched it up and down and all over, turning it this way and that,
and sobbing great sobs, and the tears flowing down her cheeks,
and ejaculating all the time, "Oh, cruel, cruel! how could any be so
heartless? Ah, poor Arbre F‚e de Bourlemont gone--and we
children loved it so! Show me the place where it says it!"

And I, still lying, showed her the pretended fatal words on the
pretended fatal page, and she gazed at them through her tears, and
said she could see herself that they were hateful, ugly words--they
"had the very look of it."

Then we heard a strong voice down the corridor announcing:

"His majesty's messenger--with despatches for her Excellency the
Commander-in-Chief of the Armies of France!"

Contents: Book II -- IN COURT AND CAMP Continued 28 Joan Foretells Her Doom 29 Fierce Talbot Reconsiders 30 The Red Field of Patay 31 France Begins to Live Again 32 The Joyous News Flies Fast 33 Joan's Five Great Deeds 34 The Jests of the Burgundians 35 The Heir of France is Crowned 36 Joan Hears News from Home 37 Again to Arms 38 The King Cries "Forward!" 39 We Win, but the King Balks 40 Treachery Conquers Joan 41 The Maid Will March No More Book III -- TRIAL AND MARTYRDOM 1 The Maid in Chains 2 Joan Sold to the English 3 Weaving the Net About Her 4 All Ready to Condemn 5 Fifty Experts Against a Novice 6 The Maid Baffles Her Persecutors 7 Craft That Was in Vain 8 Joan Tells of Her Visions 9 Her Sure Deliverance Foretold 10 The Inquisitors at Their Wit's End 11 The Court Reorganized for Assassination 12 Joan's Master-Stroke Diverted 13 The Third Trial Fails 14 Joan Struggles with Her Twelve Lies 15 Undaunted by Threat of Burning 16 Joan Stands Defiant Before the Rack 17 Supreme in Direst Peril 18 Condemned Yet Unafraid 19 Our Last Hopes of Rescue Fail 20 The Betrayal 21 Respited Only for Torture 22 Joan Gives the Fatal Answer 23 The Time Is at Hand 24 Joan the Martyr Conclusion

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