So the college tailor made Stanislaus a simple, neat suit of
clothes. And about September 20th he set out for Rome. He went on
foot, of course; in the company of Jacopo Levanzio, a Genoese, and
Fabricius Reiner, of Liége.

They struck south through Bavaria to the Tyrolese Alps. By what pass
they crossed the Alps we do not know. But Stanislaus saw first from
afar the white peaks, with their everlasting snows, shining in the
sun. Then he went up and up, into cooler and rarer air, where one's
lungs expand and one's step is light and buoyant, but where one gets
tired more easily than in the plains. High up in the passes he felt
the cold of Winter, although it was as yet early Autumn.

Then he came down the southern slopes of the great mountain-wall
that locks in Italy, and with him came the headwaters of great
rivers. He came down through bare rocks, then through twisted
mountain-pines, then through green and lovely valleys, and so into
the plains of northern Italy. He saw the mountain torrents leap and
flash, and grow always bigger and stronger. He saw them slack their
speed and widen their beds in the upland valleys. He saw them grow
sluggish, tawny with mud, in the plain.

He saw the many spires of Milan's wonderful cathedral as they drew
near the city. And when they tarried there a little while for rest,
he saw the famous armor made there, hung up for show in little shop-
windows. He passed great cavalcades of nobles and soldiers, and
marvelled at their straight, slim rapiers, so different from the
heavy Polish saber. He heard Italian speech for the first time, and
tried to get at its meaning through his Latin.