Is not our work one, moreover? Are we not one in heart and purpose,
Jacqueline? You are alone; let me protect you."
He needed no other answer than he had while his eyes constantly sought
hers. Her calm look, the dignity and strength of her composure, assured
him of all he longed to learn,--assured him that their hearts, even as
their purposes and faith, were one."
"But speak one word," he urged.
The word she spoke was, "I can be true to you, Victor."
Won hardly by a word: too easily, you think? She loved the youth, my
friends, and she loved the Truth for which he dared not say that he
could sacrifice himself.
"We are one, then," said Victor Le Roy. "It concerned me above all
things to prove that, Jacqueline. So you shall have no more to do with
these harvest-fields and vineyards henceforth, except to eat of the
fruits, if God will. You have borne all the burden and heat of labor you
shall ever bear. I can say that, with God's blessing. We shall sit under
our own vine. Death in one direction has prepared for life in another.
I inherit what my uncle can make use of no longer. We shall look out
on our own fields, our harvests; for I think this city will keep us no
longer than may he needful. We will go away into Picardy, and I will
show you where our Joan was a prisoner; and we will go back to Domremy,
and walk in the places she loved, and pray God to bless us by that
fountain, and in the grave-yard where your father and mother sleep.
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