THE TRIAL
earlier, but his friend Pope Martin V had obligingly
removed the disability by papal dispensation.
He was the most dangerous kind of advocate Joan
could have faced, cunning and enormously experienced
both in the law and in the complexities of the human
heart. He was one of the few men present at the trial
who could weigh its strengths and weaknesses without
fanaticism, yet one of the only two who had the courage
to defend it at the Rehabilitation. Any of Cauchon's
professional witch-hunters could have burned Joan for
not talking; it took a master to make her burn herself
by talking.
As if he were her own friendly counsel, he led her
through the story of her early life at Dornremy, touching
only what was simple and innocent in appearance, never
venturing the least doubt of anything she said: Manchon's
busy quill took down everything so that the lapses could
be established later. And so by natural progression they
came to the Voices, which were the root of the whole
matter. The assessors leaned forward, a hundred ques-
tions and crushing objections on the lips of each.
Beaupere, without the slightest change of expression,
heard her describe how the first vision came to her at
noon in her father's garden, and how she was afraid
until she knew that it was an angel. Presently he
inquired, "What form did the angel assume?** and
his colleagues held their breath, for the first trap had
been set.
Behind that question lay—nearly everything. A whole
series of high dogmatic pronouncements, dating back
to one or other of the great church councils, defined
minutely the form under which mortals might expect
to receive heavenly visitations. If Joan could not satisfy
25*