it was known that Father Francis would not be alone, but that he would
be accompanied by a holy friar who had returned from the East, and who
could tell of the cruelties which the Christians had suffered at the
hands of the Saracens.

Father Francis, at ordinary times a tranquil preacher, was moved beyond
himself by the theme on which he was holding forth. He did not attempt
to hide from those who stood around that the task to be undertaken was
one of grievous peril and trial; that disease and heat, hunger and
thirst, must be dared, as well as the sword of the infidel. But he spoke
of the grand nature of the work, of the humiliation to Christians, of
the desecration of the shrines, and of the glory which awaited those who
joined the Crusade, whether they lived or whether they died in the Holy
Land.

His words had a strong effect upon the simple people who listened to
him, but the feelings so aroused were as naught to the enthusiasm which
greeted the address of the friar.

Meager and pale, with a worn, anxious face as one who had suffered much,
the friar, holding aloft two pieces of wood from the Mount of Olives
tied together in the form of a cross, harangued the crowd. His words
poured forth in a fiery stream, kindling the hearts, and stirring at
once the devotion and the anger of his listeners.

He told of the holy places, he spoke of the scenes of Holy Writ, which
had there been enacted; and then he depicted the men who had died for
them. He told of the knights and men-at-arms, each of whom proved
himself again and again a match for a score of infidels. He spoke of the
holy women, who, fearlessly and bravely, as the knights themselves, had