tourist style, when Judith, who was a few steps in advance, cried suddenly, in long-drawn tones of wonder and admiration, "Oh—h—h!"
"It is Vasili Blagennoi," said Alice.
"I should think it might be something of that sort," remarked Tom, as all six of us came to a stand-still before the most gorgeous, effective, barbaric structure which I ever saw. It was a collection of towers and domes of all shapes, sizes, and colors, thrown together helter-skelter, and forming a church. Not a square inch of it was uncolored. Scarlets and bright greens vied with flaming yellow and dull purple.
"I can tell you all you wish to know about this," said George triumphantly. "It was built in the reign of Ivan the Terrible, by an Italian, whose eyes the wicked Tsar caused to be put out, so that he might never build another like it. This tradition you must believe, though 'Murray' says it is a mistake."
"I should think it would have stricken him blind," I remarked. "Can we go in?"
"Or," added Tom, "shall we stand here on the corner, advertising ourselves as tourists? They might suppose we belonged to Cook, there are so many of us."
With eyes very wide open, we clattered up the stone steps. It was so cold and dark as we entered that it struck a chill to the marrow of my bones.
"Imagine me your commissionnaire" said George, "while I explain everything to you. There are eleven domes in this church, and each one contains a chapel which is dedicated to a different saint."
