They thanked him courteously, and Berard said--

"Would to G.o.d, n.o.ble prince, you would show mercy to yourself! You need it more than we do. Treat us as you will, you can, at the utmost, only deprive us of life, and that is a matter of little moment to us who hope for eternal joys!"

What to do with these strange men the King did not know! Their courage and heroism he could not but admire, still they were very dangerous.

After a consultation with his officers, they decided that the best thing to be done was to get them quietly out of the country.

Accordingly they were placed in a vessel bound to Morocco. This exile filled the five with joy! At last they were to begin work in an infidel country!

[Sidenote: _Don Pedro._]

Now, Don Pedro, the brother of King Alphonso of Portugal, a nominal Christian, had had some kind of a dispute with the King, in consequence of which he had come to live in Morocco. Notwithstanding his Christianity, he had been placed at the head of a Mussulman army. To him the missionaries repaired. By this time their personal appearance was anything but improved. Suffering and imprisonment had done their work, their faces were wan and thin, and their garments were all but in rags.

Nevertheless, Don Pedro received them kindly, and promised to befriend them. He warned them against being too extreme, cautioned them to moderation, and begged that they would not expose themselves to danger.

But Don Pedro knew nothing about that love, which is as fire in the bones, and is strong as death; so strong that no barriers can keep it within bounds. The next morning found the missionaries hard at work.

They had learned that there was going to be some kind of a public procession through the town as the King was going to visit the tomb of his ancestors.

[Sidenote: _Prison and Torture._]

A procession to the five meant people, a concourse of sinners and infidels, a glorious opportunity, and if they did not make the best of it, they would be unworthy the name they bore. Just as the King was pa.s.sing, Berard, who could speak Arabic, mounted a cart and began to preach. Instead of stopping when the royal train pa.s.sed, as a Mussulman would have done, he waxed more vehement. To the King this seemed either insolence or madness, and having charitably decided on madness, he ordered the missionaries to be banished. Don Pedro, who by this time had had enough of his troublesome guests, gave them an escort to the nearest seaport, and hurried their departure. Again he reckoned without his host. It was to the Moors the five were sent to preach, and to the Moors they were bound to go, so they escaped from their escort, returned to Morocco, and began to preach again in the streets.

This was too much for the King, and he had them thrown into the vilest of dungeons, where for several weeks they languished in great misery, with barely enough to eat. One of the n.o.bles of the Court who was secretly inclined to the Friars, advised the King to let them out, but place them under proper care. This was done, and they were handed over to the unfortunate Don Pedro, who was far from cheerful at seeing them back again. He was about to start off on a military expedition into the interior, and not daring to leave his awkward charge behind, he took them with him. Nothing much is known of their doings till they got back again to Morocco, whereupon they began their preaching again without any more delay. Yet again the King commanded that they should be thrown into prison, and this time they were sentenced to torture.

Albozaida was the name of the officer who was to carry out this sentence. In his heart he pitied and admired the missionaries, and notwithstanding the order he had received, he merely had them shut up, and begged of the King to pardon them. But it was no use. The King was very angry, and demanded that his will be carried out without delay.

So there was nothing for Albozaida to do but to hand them over to the executioner.

[Sidenote: _The End._]

Alas for them! this man was a renegade Christian, and no torture was too great for him to inflict upon them. They were dragged through the streets with cords round their necks, they were beaten, they were rolled over pieces of gla.s.s and broken tiles, and when evening came, vinegar was poured into their open wounds, lest the night should bring too much cessation from pain. But they smiled at pain, and praised G.o.d in the midst of the greatest tortures. This treatment failing to kill them, the King desired to see them again. He spoke to them at first as though he had never seen them before.

"Are you the impious men who despise the true faith, the madmen who blaspheme the Prophet of the Lord?" he said.

"Oh King," they replied, "far from despising the true faith, we are ready to die for it. It is true that our faith is not your faith."

The King did not appear to be displeased with this bold statement. He had another argument at hand. He sent for a number of richly-dressed women, and presenting them to the missionaries he said, "If you will follow the law of Mahomet, I will give you these women for wives, and you shall have positions of honor and power in my kingdom. If not, you shall die by the sword!"

"Prince," they answered, "We want neither your women nor your honors.

Be such things yours, and Jesus Christ ours. Make us suffer all your tortures, kill us. Pain will be light to us. We look to Heaven!"

Maddened by his own insufficiency the King got up, seized a sword, and cleft their heads as though he were but a common executioner. Thus perished the first Franciscan Martyrs.

And did they accomplish nothing? Was their mission an utter failure, as some historians write it? Let us see for ourselves.

As soon as the missionaries had been killed, the mob took their bodies, and dragged them in the mire, and horribly mutilated them.

However, Don Pedro, who up till now had been but a very poor representative of the Church of Christ, was deeply touched by the death of the five, and his once half-sleeping conscience was awakened into activity. He got possession of the battered bodies, and resolving that he would have nothing further to do with the enemies of Christianity, took them, and went back to his own country. As soon as he arrived at Coimbra, King Alphonse came out to meet him, and with great rejoicing the remains of the Missionary Martyrs were carried to the Church.

[Sidenote: _Fernandez._]

Amongst those who followed in the train of the king was a young man some twenty-five years old, of n.o.ble family, named Fernandez. This young man was tremendously stirred by the story of the martyred five.

Their life and death spoke to his soul as nothing had ever done before, he longed to follow in their steps. He had a great deal of conversation with certain Franciscans who lived in a settlement hut outside the town. They came sometimes and begged at his door, and he used to question them.

One day he said--

"If I became one of you, would you send me to the country of the Saracens, that like your holy martyrs I might shed my blood for the faith?"

They replied, saying, it was the wish of Francis that his people should go and preach to the infidels.

"If that is so," said Fernandez, "bring me the habit of your Order and let me put it on."

Without any pomp or ceremony Fernandez put on the coa.r.s.e robe, changed his name to that of Anthony, and, bidding good-bye to his family, joined the Franciscans. To go into all the details of his story would take too much s.p.a.ce, but Fernandez became one of the shining lights of the Franciscan movement, and many rose up to call him blessed!

[Sidenote: _Father of Souls._]

He went to Africa, but it was not G.o.d's will that he should labor there. A violent fever reduced him to such a degree of weakness that he had to leave the country. He set sail, meaning to return to his native land and get restored in body, but a storm drove the vessel on to the coast of Italy. He preached there for a time and then went on to the Portiuncula, where Francis was presiding over a gathering of the brethren. There G.o.d showed him that Africa and a martyr's crown were not for him, and cheerfully accepting the work that G.o.d meant for him, he became the father of thousands of souls.

Oh, what, if we are Christ's, Is earthly shame or loss?

Bright shall the crown of glory be, When we have borne the cross.

Keen was the trial once, Bitter the cup of woe, When martyred saints, baptized in blood, Christ's sufferings shared below.

Bright is their glory now, Boundless their joy above, Where, on the bosom of their G.o.d, They rest in perfect love.

Lord! may that grace be ours, Like them in faith to bear All that of sorrow, grief, or pain, May be our portion here!

CHAPTER XIV.

FIRST FOREIGN MISSIONS.

"They are gone where Love is frozen, and Faith grown calm and cold, Where the world is all triumphant, and the sheep have left the fold, Where His children scorn His blessings, and His sacred shrine despise."

It was about the time of the first chapter that Francis began to feel drawn to foreign fields. The Franciscans had now spread all over Italy, and there was a general desire shown by the brethren to extend their ministrations outside that country. It would appear that at its close, a small number of the brethren were sent out to evangelize the various countries of Europe, Portugal, Hungary, Germany, etc.

For himself Francis had a larger and more daring scheme.

It was the time of the Crusades. All Christian Europe was bending its energies to wrest the tomb of our Saviour out of the hands of the Saracens. Band after band of Crusaders had marched into the Sultan's territory--to suffer defeat and death. Francis was too much of a soldier and knight not be stirred by the tales of bravery and daring which were rife everywhere. But he had his own opinions.

"Is there not," he asked himself, "a more beautiful way of gaining the desired end? Why all this bloodshed? why this wholesale hurrying of men to perdition? why all this strife between the children of one Father? Why has no one ever tried to gain these infidels over on Christ's side? How many lives might be spared, and what an increase there would be for His Church if they succeeded!"

It was a n.o.ble thought, and one worthy of Francis. The more he pondered these matters the more convinced he became that it was his duty to put his ideas into practice. He told some of the brethren his purpose, and they, convinced that G.o.d led him, made no objection, and in a very short time he was ready to begin his difficult and dangerous undertaking. Peter of Cantani was appointed to take the government of the Order during his absence.

Francis, and his companion, whose name we are not told, embarked at Ancona. How they got their pa.s.sage without any money we do not know, but it is evident that they managed it somehow. When they were well out to sea, such a storm arose as caused them to seek refuge on the coast of Illyria. It was supposed at first that the delay would only be one of a few weeks, but the stormy weather persistently continuing, it soon became evident that it would be impossible to cross the Levant at that season of the year. This was a great disappointment to Francis, but he was far from being discouraged. He determined to return to Ancona. A vessel was about to sail, and he presented himself as a pa.s.senger, but as he had no money they refused to take him on board.

[Sidenote: _A Dilemma!_]

Here was a dilemma! But help was at hand. One of the ship's officers, a good man, was touched by the harshness with which the missionaries were treated, so he went to Francis and told him that he would take them on board. He conducted them down into the hold, and hid them behind some horses there. Hardly had they been deposited when an unknown friend brought an enormous basket of provisions, and, giving it to their benefactor, said--

"Take this, take great care of it, and as the need arises, distribute it to the poor brethren you have hidden."