“No. Brother after brother joined him. First Bernard, then Peter, then Giles; they went singing sweet carols along the road, which Francis had composed out of his ready mind. They were the first hymns in the vernacular, and the people stopped to hear about God’s dear Son. Then, collecting a crowd, they preached in the marketplace. Such preaching! Francis’ first sermon in his native town set every one crying. They said the Passion of Jesus had never been so wept over in the memory of man. “The brotherhood increased rapidly, and they went on pilgrimage to Rome, to gain the approbation of the Pope. They went on foot, carrying neither purses nor food, but He who careth for the ravens cared for them, and soon they reached the Holy City. The Pope, Innocent the Third, was walking in the Lateran, when up came a poor man in a gray shepherd’s smock, and addressed him. The Pope, indignant at being disturbed in his meditations by this intrusion, bade the intruder leave the palace, and turned away. But the same night he had two dreams: he thought a palm tree grew out of the ground by his side, and rose till it filled the sky. “‘Lo,’ said a voice, ‘the poor man whom thou hast driven away.’ “Then he thought he saw the church falling, and a figure in a gray robe rushed forth and propped it up— “‘Lo, the poor man whom thou hast driven away.’ “He sent for the stranger, and Francis opened his heart to the mighty Pontiff. “‘Go,’ said the Pope, ‘in the name of the Lord, and preach repentance to all; and when God has multiplied you in numbers and grace, I will give you yet greater privileges.’ “Then he commanded that they should receive the tonsure, and, although not ordained, be considered clerks. “Imagine their joy! They visited the tombs of the Holy Apostles; and, bare footed, penniless as they came, went home, singing and preaching all the way. And thus they sang:” Love sets my heart on fire, Love of my Bridegroom new, The Slain: the Crucified! To Him my heart He drew When hanging on the Tree, From whence He said to me I am the Shepherd true; Love sets my heart on fire. I die of sweetest love, Nor wonder at my fate, The sword which deals the blow Is love immaculate. Love sets my heart on fire (_etc_). “So singing, and now and then discoursing on heavenly joys, the little band reached home. And from thence it has grown, until it has attained vast numbers. We are all over Europe. The sweet songs of Francis have set Italy on fire. And now wherever there are sinners to be saved, or sick in body or soul to be tended, you find the Franciscan. “Now I hear the bell for _terce_—go forth, my son, and prove your vocation.” Chapter 12: How Hubert Gained His Spurs. Two years had elapsed since the events related in our last two chapters; and they had passed uneventfully, so far as the lives of the page and the scholar are concerned.