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"And it is to happen to-morrow?—always to-morrow? Is it the same date always? There has been no mistake, and no confusion?"
"No," Joan said, "the 7th of May is the date—there is no other."
"Then you shall not go a step out of this house till that awful day is gone by! You will not dream of it, Joan, will you?—promise that you will stay with us."
But Joan was not persuaded. She said:
"It would not help the matter, dear good friend. The wound is to come, and come to-morrow. If I do not seek it, it will seek me. My duty calls me to that place to-morrow; I should have to go if my death were waiting for me there; shall I stay away for only a wound? Oh, no, we must try to do better than that."
"Then you are determined to go?"
"Of a certainty, yes. There is only one thing that I can do for France—hearten her soldiers for battle and victory." She thought a moment, then added, "However, one should not be unreasonable, and I would do much to please you, who are so good to me. Do you love France?"
I wondered what she might be contriving now, but I saw no clue. Catherine said, reproachfully:
"Ah, what have I done to deserve this question?"
"Then you do love France. I had not doubted it, dear. Do not be hurt, but answer me—have you ever told a lie?"
"In my life I have not wilfully told a lie—fibs, but no lies."
"That is sufficient. You love France and do not tell lies; therefore I will trust you. I will go or I will stay, as you shall decide."
"Oh, I thank you from my heart, Joan! How good and dear it is of you to do this for me! Oh, you shall stay, and not go!"
In her delight she flung her arms about Joan's neck and squandered endearments upon her the least of which would have made me rich, but, as it was, they only made me realize
