Heedless of whatever taunts might be flung at him, he turned back. But the youth of Assisi, though surprised, were rejoiced to see him, and begged him to preside once more at their revels. He gave them a final magnificent banquet, at which they noticed that he was silent and preoccupied. Immediately afterward he retired to a grotto, where he passed his days alone, entreating God to pardon the misspent years of youth and to direct him in the right way. Here he had a vision of Jesus Christ nailed to the cross. It is probably impossible to prove a vision; but that this one was real to Francis, at least, we may judge by its effects. Thenceforth he devoted himself to a pious life of marvellous self-abnegation. Seeing the change that had come upon him, his former friends fell away; but he, undisturbed, went on performing works of charity; making gifts of money, food, and even his own clothes to the poor. Again a voice spoke to him, from the crucifix of the dilapidated old church of St. Damien: "Francis, go and repair my house, which you see falling into ruins!" The young ascetic obeyed literally, and, passing through the streets, begged from all whom he met a stone or two to help rebuild the old church. Bernardone had been absent several months on one of his business trips; but his home-coming, this time, was not so pleasing to him as when his boy had been born. For, seeing the young man's complete transformation, all his selfish love of him turned into rage. He imprisoned him for a while in his own house; but Pica, recognizing that it was useless to oppose her son's religious vocation, finally set him free, and Francis took refuge in St. Damien's church. His father pursued him there, and brought before the Bishop of Assisi a complaint against him, demanding that he should give up all the money in his hands. Francis not only surrendered his money, but stripped off his clothing and gave it to his father, saying: "Until now I have called Peter Bernardone my father. Henceforth I can boldly say, 'Our Father, who art in heaven,' in whom I have placed all my treasures and my hopes." The bishop covered him with his mantle and held him clasped in his arms, until the by-standers brought Francis the cloak of a poor peasant. "Oh, what a grand bankrupt this merchant becomes to-day!" Bossuet wrote of him, long afterward. "Oh man worthy of being written in the book of the evangelical poor, and henceforward living on the capital of Providence!" From that time Francis wore mendicant's garb and begged his food in the streets.