Francis, however, was quite certain that the attempt would be a ghastly failure. He hardly knew what to do. So he talked it over with his friend, Brother Illuminato.
"I know they will be defeated in this attempt," he said. "But if I tell them so they will treat me as a madman. On the other hand, if I do not tell them, then my conscience will condemn me. What do you think I ought to do?"
"My brother," said Illuminate, "what does the judgment of the world matter to you? If they say you are mad it will not be the first time!"
Francis, therefore, went to the Crusaders and warned them. They laughed scornfully. The order for advance was given. The Crusaders charged into battle. Francis was in anguish—tears filled his eyes. The Saracens came out and fell upon the Christian soldiers and slaughtered them. Over 6000 of them either fell under the scimitar or were taken prisoner. The Crusaders were defeated.
Francis' mind was now fully made up. He went to a Cardinal, who represented the Pope, with the Crusading Army to ask his leave to go and preach to the Sultan of Egypt.
"No," said the Cardinal, "I cannot give you leave to go. I know full well that you would never escape to come back alive. The Sultan of Egypt has offered a reward of gold to any man who will bring to him the head of a Christian. That will be your fate."
"Do suffer us to go, we do not fear death," pleaded Francis and Illuminato, again and again.
"I do not know what is in your minds in this," said the Cardinal, "but beware—if you go—that your thoughts are always to God."
"We only wish to go for great good, if we can work it," replied Francis.
"Then if you wish it so much," the Cardinal at last agreed, "you may go."