The same day, as Joan was resting, she woke up with a start. "Ah! My God," she cried, "the blood of our people is spilled on the ground!... It's wrong! Why wasn't I woken up? Quickly, my weapons, my horse!" Helped by the women of the house, she quickly armed herself and, jumping into the saddle, she set off at a gallop, her standard in hand, running straight towards the Porte de Bourgogne, so fast that sparks flew from the pavement.