He would not now give way to
fears and tremblings which were of the body rather than the mind. He
stopped when half of the food was gone, put the remainder in his pocket,
and stood up. Fine drops of water struck him in the face. It had begun
to rain. And a raw wind was moaning in the valley.
Despite the warm food and his returning strength Ned felt the desperate
need of shelter. It was growing colder, too. Even as he stood there the
fine rain turned to fine snow. It melted as it fell, but when it struck
him about the neck and face it had an uncommonly penetrating power and
the chill seemed to go into the bone. He must have shelter. He looked at
the dark walls of the cathedral and then at the light in the slender
lantern far up above the dome. What more truly a shelter than a church!
It had been a sanctuary in the dark ages, and he might use it now as
such.
He left the trees and stood for a little while by a stone, one of the
124 which formerly enclosed an atrium. Still seeing nothing and hearing
nothing but the whistle of the wind which drove the cold drops of snow
under his collar he advanced boldly again, sprang over the iron railing,
and came to the walls of the old church, where he stood a moment.
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