"Yes," said Mr. George, "but we must pay the sacristan for showing them to us. We can ask him about them when we come down from the galleries."
"And besides," continued Mr. George, "the guide book says that under the floor of the church, just in front of the tomb of the three kings, the heart of Mary de Medicis is buried. That must be the place."
So saying, Mr. George pointed to a large, square flagstone, which looked somewhat different from the others around it. Rollo gazed a moment at the stone, and then said,—
"I suppose so; but I don't care much about these things, uncle George. Let us go up into the towers."
"Very well," said Mr. George, "we will go and see if we can find the way."
So our travellers went on along the ambulatory, and thence into the aisles and nave of the church, stopping, however, every few minutes to gaze at some gorgeously decorated altar, or large and beautiful painting, or quaint old effigy, or at some monument, or inscription, or antique and time-worn sculpture. There were a great many other parties of visitors, consisting of ladies and gentlemen, and sometimes children, rambling about the church at the same time. Rollo observed, as he passed these groups, that some were talking French, some German, and some English. Here and there, too, Rollo passed plain-looking people, dressed like peasants, who were kneeling before some altar or crucifix, saying their prayers or counting their beads, and wearing a very devout and solemn air. Some of these persons took no notice of Mr. George and Rollo as they passed them; but others would follow them with their eyes, scrutinizing their dress and appearance very closely until they got by, though they continued all the time to move their lips and utter inarticulate murmurings.
"I don't think those girls are attending much to their prayers," said Rollo.
"I'm afraid the girls in the Protestant churches in America do not attend to them much better," said Mr. George. "There is a great deal of time spent in seeing how people are dressed by worshippers in other churches than the Roman Catholic."
At length Rollo caught a view of the man who had held the plate for a contribution, at the time when he and Mr. George came in at the church door. He was walking to and fro, with his plate in his hand, in a distant portion of the church. Rollo immediately offered to go to him, and ask how he and Mr. George were to get to the towers. So he left Mr. George looking at a great painting, and walked off in that direction.
Just before Rollo came to the man, his attention was attracted by a girl of about twelve or thirteen years of age, who was strolling about the church at a little distance before him, swinging her bonnet in her hand. She was very pretty, and her dark eyes shone with a very brilliant, but somewhat roguish expression. She stopped when she saw Rollo coming, and eyed him with a mingled look of curiosity and pleasure.