Conrade on his way to Orleans releases a French soldier. Council of the leaders. Summons of the Maid to the English Generals. The Maid attacks, defeats them, and enters Orleans in triumph at midnight, amid thunder and lightning. The night was calm, and many a moving cloud The day go No song down upon their merriment : of Peace now echoed on its banks. There tents were pitched, and there the centinel, Slow pacing on his sullen rounds, beheld The frequent corse roll down the tainted stream. Conrade with wider sweep pursued his way, Shunning the camp, now hush'd in sleep and still.. And now no sound was heard save of the Loire, Murmuring along. The noise of coming feet. As of pursuit ; anon-the clash of arms! That instant rising o'er a broken cloud The moon beams shone, where two with combined force Prest on a single foe; he, warding still Their swords, retreated in the unequal fight, As he would make the city. Conrade shook The other fled, "now haste we to the gates, And plunging stemm'd with sinewy stroke the tide, "Whence art thou?" cried the Warrior; "on what charge "Commission'd?" "Is it not the voice of Conrade?" Francis exclaim'd; " and dost thou bring to us "Tidings of speedy aid? oh! had it come "A few hours earlier! Isabel is gone!" "Nay she is safe:" cried Conrade, "her I found "The delegate of Heaven. One evening more "There is no food in Orleans," he replied, "Scarce a meal more! the assembled chiefs resolved, "If thou shouldst bring no tidings of near aid, "To cut their way to safety, or by death "Prevent the pang of* famine. One they sought "Who venturous in the English camp should spy * Fuller calls this "resolving rather to lose their lives by wholesale on the point of the sword, than to retail them out by famine." |