"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."