vered with the most elaborate
vaulting with great pendants dropping from the centre of each section; but
for the most crowded ornament one must examine the chancel and the chapels.

The church of St Jean is not conspicuous, but it is notable for two or
three features. The western tower is six and a half feet out of
perpendicular, the triforium has a noticeable balustrade running all round,
and the chancel is longer than the nave. St Sauveur, in the Rue St Pierre
is of the same period as St Jean, but its tower if it had been crocketed
would have very closely resembled that of St Pierre, and it is chiefly
notable for the fact that it is two churches thrown into one--that of St
Eustace being joined on to it.

Another feature of Caen that is often overlooked is the charm of its old
courtyards. Behind some of the rather plain stone fronts, the archways lead
into little paved quadrangles that have curious well-heads, rustic outside
staircases, and odd-shaped dormer windows on the steep roofs. One of these
courtyards behind a house in the Rue de Bayeux is illustrated here, but to
do justice to the quaintnesses that are to be revealed, it would have been
necessary to give several examples. In the Boulevard St Pierre, where the
pavements are shaded by pink horse chestnuts there stands the Tour le Roy.
It is the most noticeable remnant of the days when Caen was a walled and
strongly fortified city, but as you look at it to-day it seems too much
like a good piece of the sham antique to be found at large exhibitions. It
is the restoration that is at fault, and not the tower itself, which is
really old, and no doubt is in quiet rebellion at the false complexion it
is obliged to wear.

The view of Caen from across the race-course is a beautiful one, but under
some aspects this is quite eclipsed by the wonderful groupings of the
church towers seen from the canal as it goes out of the town towards the
east. I can remember one particular afternoon when there was a curious
mistiness through which the western sunlight passed, turning everything
into a strange, dull gold. It was a light that suppressed all that was
crude and commercial near at hand and emphasised the medievalism of the
place by throwing out spires and towers in softly tinted silhouettes. I
love to think of Caen robed in this cloth of gold, and the best I can wish
for every one who goes there with the proper motives, is that they may see
the place in that same light.

On