stained windows,
seemed dimly lighted, though the walls were white and dashes of red and
purple sunshine lay brightly upon pillar and pew.

Ben saw a few old women moving softly through the aisles, each bearing a
high pile of foot stoves which she distributed among the congregation by
skillfully slipping out the under one, until none were left. It puzzled
him that mynheer should settle himself with the boys in a comfortable
side pew, after seating his vrouw in the body of the church, which was
filled with chairs exclusively appropriated to the women. But Ben was
learning only a common custom of the country.

The pews of the nobility and the dignitaries of the city were circular
in form, each surrounding a column. Elaborately carved, they formed a
massive base to their great pillars standing out in bold relief
against the blank, white walls beyond. These columns, lofty and well
proportioned, were nicked and defaced from violence done to them long
ago; yet it seemed quite fitting that, before they were lost in the deep
arches overhead, their softened outlines should leaf out as they did
into richness and beauty.

Soon Ben lowered his gaze to the marble floor. It was a pavement of
gravestones. Nearly all the large slabs, of which it was composed,
marked the resting places of the dead. An armorial design engraved
upon each stone, with inscription and date, told whose form as sleeping
beneath, and sometimes three of a family were lying one above the other
in the same sepulcher.

He could not help but think of the solemn funeral procession winding
by torchlight through those lofty aisles and bearing its silent burden
toward a dark opening whence the slab had been lifted, in readiness for
its coming. It was something to think that his sister Mabel, who died
in her flower, was lying in a sunny churchyard where a brook rippled and
sparkled in the daylight and waving trees whispered together all night
long; where flowers might nestle close to the headstone, and moon and
stars shed their peace upon it, and morning birds sing sweetly overhead.

Then he looked up from the pavement and rested his eyes upon the carved
oaken pulpit, exquisitely beautiful in design and workmanship. He could
not see the minister--though, not long before, he had watched him slowly
ascending its winding stair--a mild-faced man wearing a ruff about his
neck and a short cloak reaching nearly to the knee.

Meantime the great church had been silently fil