Yet, again, it was a
half-fantastic prayer, because, from childhood upward, visions that she
had no power to mistrust, and the voices which sounded in her ear for
ever, had long since persuaded her mind that for _her_ no such
prayer could be granted. Too well she felt that her mission must be
worked out to the end, and that the end was now at hand. All went wrong
from this time. She herself had created the _funds_ out of which
the French restoration should grow; but she was not suffered to witness
their development or their prosperous application. More than one
military plan was entered upon which she did not approve. But she still
continued to expose her person as before. Severe wounds had not taught
her caution. And at length, in a sortie from Compiegne (whether through
treacherous collusion on the part of her own friends is doubtful to
this day), she was made prisoner by the Burgundians, and finally
surrendered to the English.
Now came her trial. This trial, moving of course under English
influence, was conducted in chief by the Bishop of Beauvais. He was a
Frenchman, sold to English interests, and hoping, by favour of the
English leaders, to reach the highest preferment. "Bishop that art,
Archbishop that shalt be, Cardinal that mayest be," were the words that
sounded continually in his ear; and doubtless a whisper of visions
still higher, of a triple crown, and feet upon the necks of kings,
sometimes stole into his heart.
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