Paul was waxing eloquent again, but Stanislaus turned on his heel
and walked away. Nor did the bullying big brother venture to follow
him. He contented himself with calling him hard names which he could
not hear, and muttering savagely to himself for some time. But,
naturally, he did not believe at all that Stanislaus was really
going to run away9 He looked upon the words as an empty threat.

And so it was all over. Stanislaus sighed a sigh of relief. There
was nothing ahead of him now save the road to Augsburg. He said his
prayers tranquilly and went to bed.

Morning came, or the dawn that precedes the morning. Stanislaus got
up, selected his finest suit of clothes, and dressed. His first care
was to write the letter for Paul and his father. This he put between
the leaves of a book.

The servants, of course, even in the primitive housekeeping of the
Kostkas, slept in another room than the big common apartment of
their masters. Stanislaus went to the bed of one of them, named
Pacifici, who was rather particularly devoted to him, and who
afterwards became a Franciscan. He shook Pacifici and woke him. The
servant rubbed his eyes sleepily, then gazed in astonishment at the
brilliant figure standing in the half-light beside his bed. What was
the Lord Stanislaus doing, dressed in this unusual finery, at such
an unearthly hour!

"Listen," said Stanislaus, "I am going out for the day. I have
received an invitation which I must accept. I am going now. If
Bilinski or the Lord Paul ask for me, tell them that."