Fra Francesco of Apulia a Friar Minor (a Religion always bitterly antipathetic to the Religion of St. Dominic) accepted the challenge thus thrown down. He said that he knew that both parties to the Ordeal would be burned to death: but it would be better so, than that one heresiarch should be left free to carry on his treasons to Christ’s Church and State. Again Fra Girolamo Savonarola put forth an evasion. He refused, after challenging—he refused the Ordeal in his proper person: but he offered one of his friars of San Marco, one Fra Domenico, as his representative. From Rome the practical common sense of the Pope’s Holiness fulminated disapproval: but the Ordeal went on. Faggots were piled in the great square of Florence, and set in flame. The skin of the faces of the crowd grew hot and scarlet and crackled in the glare. The Friar Minor came forward in readiness to die for the good of the people. Fra Girolamo made delays—delays—he said that Fra Domenico must bear our Lord-in-the-Sacrament, the Sacred Host, Gesù Sagramentato, in an ostensorium through the raging flames. The pious simple souls of the Signoria knew this for irreverence, for sacrilege; retired to discuss the point; returned; refused permission. Fra Girolamo persisted while the fire burned lower. The long slow day was passing. Already his dictatorship, the day when he ruled Florence with a word, had passed. The fire was dying: and then, finally, except upon his own mad terms, Fra Girolamo refused the Ordeal which he had challenged, evaded, delayed, denied. [Illustration: _Fra Girolamo Savonarola_] All faith in him was gone. Objurgated by a thousand raucous throats, torn at by a thousand furious hands, the people’s broken idol sought refuge in his Convent of San Marco. Florence rose in riot, blood was shed, the blood of Francesco Valori in cold murder. The Convent of San Marco suffered storm; and the friars with their mattoid Prior were cast in prison.