When I went in at five in the afternoon, it was already growing dark, and a priest was just lighting the lamps; the stove had already comfortably warmed the building, and I could see sitting about in obscure corners, old peasant women. Others were standing quietly before some pictures, or kneeling before a side altar. By far the most interesting building to the antiquary in Poitiers, is the curious old Baptistery de St. Jean, dating back to the fourth century. It is filled with old stone tombs of the seventh or eighth century, and some as early as the sixth. Upon one of the latter is the inscription: "_Ferro cinetus filius launone_." On another was: "_Aeternalis et servilla vivatisiendo_." I noticed a curious double tomb for a man and a woman: in length about five feet. Père Camille de la Croix discovered this baptistery, and was instrumental in having it preserved, and the tombs carefully examined. Père Camille himself is one of those striking personalities at whose presence the great dead past lights its torch, and once more stands, a living power, before the eyes of the present. Such a personality breathes upon the dry bones beside our path to-day, and they rise from silent oblivion and lay their arresting hands upon our sleeves. He is a splendid-looking old man, with long white beard and eyes that are living fires of energy and enthusiasm. When I first met him, he was sitting cataloguing MSS at a side table, in the _musée_, in a very minute, neat handwriting, sombrero on head. I stayed talking to him for some little time, and amongst other things, he said rather bitterly, "The monuments and baptistery belonged to France; if they had belonged to Poitiers they'd have been destroyed long ago." I had made a few little rough sketches of the tombs, and as he turned over the leaves of my sketch-book to tell me the probable dates of each, he gave vent to a resounding "_Hurr--!_" and pursed his lips together. When I mentioned that I had been told by someone that he spoke three languages, he said decisively and emphatically, "_Il dit faux_." He lives in a curious, high, narrow house by the river, with small windows and iron gates; and the greater part of his time is given up to the deciphering of old manuscripts, and writing records of them; records which will be an invaluable gift to posterity. CHAPTER IX