ome recesses. But at the end of the Rue Damiette, behind the vista
of old houses, the arches of St. Maclou will tempt you irresistibly
towards the end of the road that curves out at the north-west corner
of the church, just opposite the famous fountain which has been so
mutilated by the Huguenots. At this point turn sharply to the left,
down the Rue Martainville eastwards. To the south the Rue Moliere
flings its quaint legendary shadows towards the river. A little
further on, a dark square opening makes a patch of black beneath the
gabled windows of No. 190. That is the entrance to the Aitre St.
Maclou, the oldest cemetery in Rouen, and one of the most interesting
in Europe. Pass through the dark passage into the open space beyond
that is surrounded by old timbered houses, and go straight through to
the little stairway that is opposite the entrance. From that slight
eminence you may look back upon the strangest scene you have yet
visited; if it is an autumn afternoon the little charity children will
be running to and fro beneath the emblems of death carved on the
timbers above their heads, while the religious sisters, in their grey
gowns and wide white head-dresses move slowly to and fro beside them.
It is the picture of another century, in its appropriate setting.

As the sun sets slowly and the shadows gather, this aged sepulchre of
the dead of Rouen gradually gives up its secrets, and the ancient city
of past centuries reappears to the grating of the rebec of the "Danse
Macabre." The broad boulevards of the morning sink into the soil, and
in their place there gapes a mighty moat with massive buttresses above
it. The Seine of yesterday grows wider, pushing the Quais back to the
foot of the town walls, and above his youthful waters slope the
rounded arches built by the Empress Matilda, wife of Geoffrey
Plantagenet. The streets and houses shrink into a narrower limit,
bounded by a line of bastions, with crenelated towers at intervals,
and eight gates each with its watch-tower and drawbridge and
portcullis.

Above the battlemented walls, the airy spires and mighty pyramids of
the City of Churches rise from thirty-five parishes, and from four and
thirty monasteries. Three donjon keeps dominate the town. Upon the St.
Catherine's Mount a fortress holds the hill, and above it rise the
towers of the Abbey of St. Trinite du Mont. Within every church the
monuments and carvings are still fresh and unmutilated. The royal
statue