He walked down one of the aisles, careful that
his footsteps should make no sound. He saw that there were rows of
chapels, seven on either side of the church. It occurred to him that he
would be safer in one of these rooms and he chose that which seemed to
be used the least.
While on this search he passed the main altar in the center of the
building. He noticed above the stalls a picture of the Virgin. He was a
Protestant, but when he saw it he crossed himself devoutly. Was not her
church giving him shelter and refuge from his enemies? He also passed
the Altar of the Kings, beneath which now lie the heads of great
Mexicans who secured the independence of their country from Spain. He
looked a little at these before he entered the chapel of his choice.
It was a small room, lighted scarcely at all by a narrow window, and it
contained a few straight wooden pews one of which had been turned about
facing the wall. He lay down in his pew, and, even in daylight, he would
have been hidden from anyone a yard away. The hard wood was soft to him.
He put his cap under his head and stretched himself out. Then, without
will, he relaxed completely. Nature could stand no more. His eyes closed
and he floated off into the far and happy region of sleep.
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