Rollo in London by Jacob Abbott

Author:Jacob Abbott [Abbott, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: London (England) -- Juvenile fiction
Published: 2008-01-05T16:00:00+00:00

"Yes," said Mrs. Holiday; "I am high enough. I do not wish to go any higher."

In fact, it was somewhat frightful to be so high. It even made Mr. George dizzy to look down from so vast an elevation.

"Are we above, or below, the dome?" said Mrs. Holiday.

"We are above the inner dome," said Mr. George, "but below the outer one."

"I thought they were both the same," said Mrs. Holiday. "I thought the inner dome was the under side of the outer one."

"It ought to be," said Mr. George; "but it is not so in St. Paul's. There is a great space between, filled with masonry and carpentry."

Here Mr. George led the way up a flight of stone steps that ascended from the gallery to a door leading into the interior of the church again. When they had all entered they looked up and saw above and around them the commencement of a perfect maze of beams, piers, walls, buttresses, and braces, all blackened by the smoky London atmosphere, and worn and corroded by time. What was near of this immense complication was dimly seen by the faint light which made its way through the narrow openings which were left here and there in nooks and corners; but the rest was lost in regions of darkness and gloom, into which the eye strove in vain to penetrate.

This was the space between the inner and the outer dome. The walls which were seen were part of an immense cone of masonry which was built in the centre to sustain the whole structure. The lantern above, with the ball and cross surmounting it, rests on the top of this cone. The outer dome is formed around the sides of it without. This outer dome is made of wood; and the immense system of beams and braces which our party saw in the darkness around them were parts of the framework by which it is supported.

As our party came into this frightful-looking den of darkness and terror, they found themselves at the foot of a steep, but pretty broad and straight, flight of steps, that seemed to lead up into the midst of the obscure and gloomy maze, though the eye could follow it only for a short distance.

Mrs. Holiday hung back. She was evidently disinclined to go any farther.

"It is not worth while for us to go any farther is it?" said she, timidly.

"That is just as you please," said Mr. George. "It is rather frightful, I admit."

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