Catherine laughed with the wise look of a knowledgeable married woman; and although Jeannette genuinely had no wish to marry herself she was delighted to see her sister’s happiness.

It was a great hardship to find the money for Robert of Saarbrück but for a few months there was comparative peace. Hope was springing up because there were rumours of a rallying of the French armies and that the Dauphin was recruiting mercenaries from Italy and Spain. There were fierce Scots too, for the Scots had always hated the English, and were never averse to giving a hand against them.

This was to be the battle to end the tragic state of affairs. France would rise again, and a more hopeful spirit prevailed in Domrémy than had been known for a long time. Even the church bells rang out more gaily, it seemed to Jeannette.

They waited for news. The English were not – as strong as they had been, they reminded themselves. The Duke of Bedford was no Henry the Fifth. He wanted to go home. His brother was causing trouble. Burgundy was not and never could be – a true friend.

There came the day when the road was busy with messengers riding to and fro. There were soldiers as well. Some stopped at Domrémy. Yes, there had been a battle, a bloody battle, that of Verneuil.

Victory for the French? Indeed not. The English had done it again. When would the French find a way of defeating those showers of arrows, those spikes turned towards the enemy which broke the legs of the French horses as they advanced?

So … disaster at Verneuil and little hope of driving the Godons back across the sea. The sacking started again. There were sudden descents on the villages. No one was safe.

One night the tocsins rang out. Soldiers were coming in the direction of Domrémy. They were almost upon them and there was no time to save the cattle as well as the villagers.

They fled to the castle. They heard the sounds of shouting all through the night. Anxiously they watched for the flames.

In the morning they returned fearfully to the village. Their houses were untouched but all the cattle had been stolen.

Poverty stared them in the face. How could they live without cattle? Their flocks and herds were their livelihood.

Jacques declared that he would send a messenger at once to Jeanne d’Ogivillier, the owner of the Castle on the Island; she had influence in high places; she was a good and compassionate woman and she would know what the loss of their cattle would mean to the villagers. Moreover she was related to the Comte de Vaudémont. Could she appeal to him? The villagers had done no wrong, but they had had their means of livelihood snatched away from them in the night.

Perhaps none was more surprised than Jacques when the cattle, on the command of the Comte, were returned to the village. What joy there was! What bell ringing! The village congregated on the green to celebrate their good fortune and Jeannette went into the church to pray to the Virgin.

‘Help them, Holy Virgin,’ she prayed. ‘Help me to do what I can.’

Chapter X

VOICES

IT was soon after that when she heard the first of the voices. She had rowed over to the island to tend the sheep. It was a warm day and everything around seemed peaceful. She was thinking about the past year and all the horrors they had gone through, the loss of the cattle, the difficulty in finding the tribute to pay Robert of Saarbrück, the death of Mengette’s husband, and the constant fear in the night and the rising up from her pallet when the church bells rang out to warn them. Church bells should be beautiful, peaceful as they were when rung for church services. She loved the bells. She had always thought that one of the most wonderful moments of the day was when she was in the fields or tending the crops in her father’s patch and she heard the bells of the angelus ringing out. Then she would kneel wherever she was and give thanks to God.

Alas, life was full of anxieties and would be until peace came back to the land. Even then life had its troubles, harvests failed, people died. She thought then of Catherine. She had not seemed well lately. Jeannette had noticed that she was becoming increasingly thin and she had a persistent cough. She herself would go to Greux more often. She would insist on helping with her work, for Catherine did seem to be easily tired.

She looked up at the sky. A dark cloud had sprung up suddenly. She held out her hand. It was raining quite hard now. On the island apart from the main chapel there was the ruin of an old one which could not have been used for fifty years. The walls had been battered by weather but what was left would offer a good shelter from a shower of rain.

The rain was now teeming down and she stepped under the protruding roof. It was clear that this had been an altar to the Virgin, and as always, when close to holy places, Jeannette experienced a lifting of her spirits. She knelt down to pray as she often did, and the burden of her prayer was, as usual, that Heaven might see fit to save her tortured country from the enemy.

And as she prayed a strange drowsiness came upon her. She could not understand quite what had happened when she thought of it afterwards. Whether she fell asleep she was not sure. It was a conviction rather than anything she saw, but it was clear and different from anything that had ever happened to her before. It was like a vision in which she heard the voice of God telling her that she had been chosen to go to the aid of the Dauphin.

She awoke … if sleeping she had been. The rain had stopped and the sun had come out. It was shining on the wet grass and bushes, and she could smell the freshness in the air.

What a strange dream! Yet not a dream. Had she heard a voice? She was not sure. It was just a wild dream and yet she was filled with an exultation, as though she had been in communication with God.

She herded the flocks together and told herself she had fallen asleep and dreamed. The terrible state of the country was constantly in her mind. Wasn’t it in everyone’s mind? No one could escape from it. Perhaps that was why when she dozed for a few moments she should have such a dream. But no. It had been a preposterous idea. How could she, a simple peasant girl, go to the aid of the Dauphin!

It was a few days later – a hot summer’s day. She was working on her father’s patch when suddenly from the direction of the church she heard the voice again.

It said: ‘Jeannette, I have been sent by God to help you live a good and holy life. Be good and God will help you.’

She stood up. A sudden fear came to her. She was in the presence of the supernatural.

‘Have no fear,’ went on the voice. ‘Be good. If you are, you will have the protection of God.’

Jeannette’s fear passed away and she fell to her knees. She believed it was Christ claiming her as His bride as He had St Catherine.

‘I will be good,’ she murmured. ‘I will be the bride of Christ. I belong to Christ Jesus for as long as He will keep me in His almighty power.’

It was a strange experience. She rose from her knees. If any had seen her they would not have been very surprised. They knew how obsessed she had been for some time by her piety. Mengette and even Catherine had said that it was unnatural. Colin, Catherine’s husband, openly laughed at her.

But there was some great meaning in life and she felt that she was on the verge of a revelation.

So she told no one of what she had heard and as a day or so passed she even began to wonder herself whether she had heard it.

She was not long left in doubt for a few days later she had another experience. She was in the fields once more when she heard the voice again. It was admonishing her to be good. And on this occasion she saw strange images … figures bathed in light. In the midst of these was a majestic figure with wings whom she knew at once because she had seen many statues of him. He was the Archangel Michael.

‘Jeannette,’ he told her. ‘You are the chosen one. Two saints of whom you have heard will be sent to guide you. Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret will come to you. They are appointed to guide and counsel you. Do as they say that that which God has ordained may come to pass.’

She was no longer in doubt. This was the reason for her excessive love of the church and the saints; it was the answer to those who wondered why she was apart, different from them, why she preferred to kneel and pray to the saints rather than dance in the fields and chat with the boys. She was the chosen one.

She was exalted.

‘What has come over you, Jeannette?’ asked her mother. You dream the hours away.’

She wanted to tell them; but she dared not. They would not believe her and just at first she could not endure their disbelief.

She waited every day for the voices to come, for the visions to appear. They always came and as the Archangel Michael had told her she saw the Saints Catherine and Margaret as well. They were beautiful beyond human understanding, bathed in celestial light and smelling of the sweetest perfume more intoxicating than that of roses. They talked to her gently, always soothing her fears. She fell on her knees before them and swore that she would preserve her virginity even as they had. She was one of them. She was the bride of Christ and she would remain pure in His service.

‘Have no fear, Jeannette,’ they told her. ‘Trust in Heaven.’

She could scarcely eat or sleep so great was her excitement. Her mother watched her anxiously.

‘I am anxious about Jeannette,’ she told Jacques. ‘The girl is too pious. It is not natural. She should be with the young folks. She will not now go to dance under the tree.’

‘She will soon be of an age to marry,’ said Jacques. ‘She will calm down then.’

Vaguely Jeannette heard them talking about the war. There was a strong commander at Vaucouleurs called Robert de Baudricourt. He was staunchly for the Dauphin and was inspiring new hope in the neighbourhood.

Jacques shook his head. ‘What can he do?’ he asked. ‘There is so much ground to be recovered. We have lost so much.’

Jeannette said: ‘It will not always be so. A time will come …’

They looked at her oddly. Her eyes were shining. She spoke like a prophet.

‘What do you know of such matters, girl?’ said Jacques sharply. ‘Look to your spinning.’

And she was silent – seeing that it would be impossible to tell them.

She walked over to Greux to see Catherine. Her sister was lying on her pallet looking very pale.

‘Catherine, what ails you?’ she asked. ‘Do you feel pain?’

Catherine shook her head. ‘It is my cough mostly, Jeannette, it weakens me. Do not tell Colin. It worries him. If I rest like this I can be up and about when he comes in from the fields.’

Jeannette cleaned the house and cooked a little and spun – doing Catherine’s share as well as her own.

‘Thank you, sister,’ said Catherine.

‘I would I could do more for you, Catherine … a strange thing has happened to me. I have heard voices.’

‘Voices?’ she said. ‘Whose voices?’

‘Voices of angels and saints … They speak to me, Catherine.’

Catherine looked at her warily, a little frightened. Jeannette realised that their mother must have told her that Jeannette had been acting strangely lately.

Catherine would not understand and she did not want to frighten her. Poor Catherine had anxieties enough of her own – not that this was an anxiety, but Catherine might think it so.

‘Have you been dreaming again?’ asked Catherine. ‘I used to when I was younger. I don’t now. I’m glad. Dreams can be frightening when you are afraid the soldiers might come in the night … and we seem always to have been afraid of that.’

No, she could not speak to Catherine.

Colin came in from the fields. He smiled to see her. He was glad she had come to give Catherine a helping hand.

‘What,’ he cried, ‘have you taken time off from church to come and see us!’

He teased of course. No, she could tell no one in her sister’s household.

Why should she want to tell? She did not know. Perhaps it was because she was going to be given some task and she would need help. I am so ignorant of life, she thought, just a simple peasant girl. Could they really have chosen me? Have I dreamed it?

There was one to whom she could whisper something. That was little Hauviette. Hauviette had always listened, always wanted to be with her since those days when a very small Hauviette had followed them about and tried to share in their games.