They sank down one by one beside the dusty road, and the fierce heat streamed down on them: one or two muttered, but most of them lay still. "My God, why hast thou deserted me?" prayed Francis in a broken voice. And Egidio, lying delirious upon the ground, looked at him with glazed, unrecognising eyes, and muttered to him: "Francis, son of Pietro Bernardone, because of thy doubt thou art contemptible, and in no wise worthy of the mercy of God." And Francis covered his face with his hands, and lay beside his companions. "If it be thy will, my Lord; if it be thy will." * * * * * He felt water sprinkled on his face, and a little wine poured between his lips. "Who are you who travel in this wise, through the fierce heat, without food or drink, and half naked? If I had not seen you, and come to your aid, you would have perished by the wayside." The bottle was thrust between his lips again, and he swallowed a good draught; as he swum back into consciousness, he heard the voice of Egidio: "We are penitents from Assisi, who have been to Rome that the Pope might approve our rule, and we were returning homeward when the fierce heat struck us down." "From Rome," said the deep mellow voice. "Then you have been travelling on foot through the hot noon. It is wonderful that you got so far. But for my wine you would have lain there till the end of time. Art thou stronger?" The last words were to Francis, who had opened his eyes. "Yea. Thanks to thee," answered Francis. "God will reward thee, my brother." "Doubtless," answered the other. "But who is to pay me for my wine? You be twelve fools, without a wise man among you." Francis looking about him saw that most of his companions were sitting up eating bread, and looking at him stupidly. All were sick and weary. The stranger who had helped them was a tall young man driving a hooded wine-cart. He had a plump, handsome face, magnificent limbs, and a general air of well-being. "None of us can pay thee," answered Francis, "nay, not even for thy wine, which was the least part of thy kindness. Shall we pay thee for our lives with our lives? We have given them to God." "I want no payment," said the young man, ashamed. "See, I shall leave you this other small flask of wine. It hath grown cooler; the sun is sinking, and an hour will bring you to Orte. Yea, indeed I see that you are saintly livers, yet I have called you fools."