Francis took a keen delight when as it happened he was able to prove to his gay escort by ocular demonstration the power of his beloved poverty. They were stopping at a tiny mountain village in order to let him rest, and as they had no food, the men set out to buy some. They came back a little later, very discomfited and not a little cross. The people had refused to sell them any, saying loftily, "We are not shopkeepers." "We are reduced to living upon your alms," the men said to Francis, "we cannot find anything to buy." Francis enjoyed their dilemma hugely. "You have found nothing," he explained, "because you have trusted in your money more than God. But return where you have been, and instead of offering money ask food for the love of God. Do not be ashamed; since sin came into the world all we have is alms, it is of the charity of the Great Almoner that we receive what we call our possessions." The knights took courage, and became for the time beggars, and, asking food "for the love of God," received all they wanted! After this halt they reached Assisi in another stage. The old Bishop Guido came to see his "son" as soon as he arrived. The moment he looked at him he knew that his days were numbered, and he entreated him to let himself be moved to his house, where he could have more comfort. This was done, but nothing could really ease Francis' sufferings. The swelling that had begun at Cortona disappeared, and he rapidly became terribly thin. He could not make the slightest effort without terrible suffering, and his eyes were so bad that he could barely distinguish light from darkness--feeling alone remained, and we are told that every part of his body was the seat of sharp pains! The doctors declared they could not tell what kept him alive! [Sidenote: _Farewell to Assisi._] "My father," said one who was tending him once, "Do you not think you would suffer less under the hands of an executioner?" "My brother," answered Francis, "my dearest and sweetest wish has always been, and still is, to do what God demands of me; with all my soul I desire to conform myself in all things to His pleasure and will, but martyrdom would be less difficult to bear than three days of this illness. I mean speaking of the suffering it brings, not of the recompense it merits." As the suffering days lengthened into months, Francis seemed to rise above himself. He lay there smiling and calm, and every hour his soul became more strong and vigorous. Not that he was by any means free from temptation. We read that "his soul bore the most violent assaults without flinching." In October he was taken back to Portiuncula. His one desire now was to die near the spot where God had first revealed Himself to him. He was placed on a litter, and slowly the bearers descended the mountain. "Turn me towards the town," he said when they reached the valley, and sitting up with a painful effort, he gazed for the last time in the direction of Assisi.