Chapter IX: The Worm Turns

It is eight o'clock of the following morning. Joan Darc is again clad in her male attire. She is again chained. Her handsome face is bruised from the blows that she received in the nocturnal struggle. One thought only absorbs her mind--can she manage to confess aloud the truth of what she has denied? The heroine's expectations are met by the event. Instructed by his accomplice of the happenings of the day before, the Bishop has commissioned several judges to visit Joan in her cell. They are seven. Here are their names:

Nicolas of Venderesse, William Haiton, Thomas of Courcelles, Isambard of La Pierre, James Camus, Nicolas Bertin, Julien Floquet.

Considering her crime flagrant, Joan Darc feels a bitter joy at the sight of the priests. Her head erect, calm, resolute, she seems to challenge their questions. Out of modesty and dignity, however, and unwilling to run the risk of blushing before these men, she decides to be silent upon the attempt of the previous night. The judges range themselves around the couch of the enchained captive.

THOMAS OF COURCELLES (affecting astonishment)--"What, Joan, again in man's attire? And despite your oath to renounce such idolatrous garb forever?"

JOAN DARC (tersely)--"I have resumed these clothes because I was forced to."

NICOLAS OF VENDERESSE--"You have violated your oath."

JOAN DARC (indignant)--"It is you who have violated yours! Have the promises made to me been kept? Have I been allowed to attend mass? Have I been restored to freedom after my abjuration? You are knaves and hypocrites!"

JAMES CAMUS--"We had to conform to the ecclesiastical sentence which condemns you to perpetual imprisonment."

JOAN DARC--"I prefer to die rather than remain in this prison. (She shivers with horror at the thought of the previous night's attempt upon her.) Had I been allowed to attend mass, had I been left in a decent place, free from my chains, and kept by women, I would have continued to clothe myself in the garb of my sex. If there is any fault, it lies with you."

ISAMBARD OF LA PIERRE--"Have you heard your voices since your condemnation?"

JOAN DARC (with bitterness)--"Yes; I have heard them."

The priests look at one another and exchange meaning looks.

WILLIAM HAITON--"What did your voices say to you? We want to know."

JOAN DARC (with a firm voice)--"They told me I committed an act of cowardice by denying the truth."

JAMES CAMUS--"And before the abjuration, what did your voices say?"

JOAN DARC (intrepidly looking at her judges)--"My voices said to me it would be criminal to deny the divine inspiration that ever guided me. (Commotion among the judges.) Upon the scaffold my voices said to me: 'Answer that preacher boldly--he is a false priest!' Woe is me, I did not obey my voices!"

The judges remain silent for a moment, and exchange expressive looks.

THOMAS OF COURCELLES--"These words are as rash as they are criminal. After having abjured, you relapse into your damnable errors!"

JOAN DARC (in a ringing voice)--"The error lies in lying--by abjuring I lied! What is damnable is to damn one's soul, and I damned it by not maintaining that I obeyed the will of heaven! My voices have reproached me for having abjured."

JAMES CAMUS--"Thus, after resuming male attire, a capital crime, an unpardonable crime which makes you a relapsed one, _revolvistis ad vestrum vomitum_--you have returned to your vomit, you dare maintain that those alleged voices--"

JOAN DARC--"The voices of my saints--come from God."

THOMAS OF COURCELLES--"On the scaffold you confessed."

JOAN DARC--"On the scaffold I was a coward! I lied! I yielded to the feeling of terror!"

JAMES CAMUS--"At this hour, thinking you no longer need to fear death, you come back to your former declarations."

JOAN DARC--"At this hour I maintain that only fear forced me to abjure, to confess the contrary of the truth. I prefer to die, rather than remain in this prison. I have spoken. You shall have not another word from me."

JAMES CAMUS--"Be it so!"

The priests file out slowly and silently. Joan Darc remains alone, on her knees upon the straw. She raises her eyes to the vault of her prison with a radiant, inspired face, and with her hands joined, she thanks her saints for the courage they have given her to expiate and annul her apostasy by resolutely marching to death.