In such a position and with so much threatening him his faculties became
uncommonly keen. He heard the voices more distinctly, and also the
footsteps of the priests in their felt slippers. They passed the door of
the chapel in which he lay, and once or twice he thought they were going
to enter, but they seemed merely to pause at the door. Then he would
hold his breath until they were gone.
At last and with infinite joy he saw the colored lights fade. The window
itself grew dark, and the murmur in the church ceased. But he did not
come forth from his secure refuge until it was quite dark. He staggered
from stiffness at first, but the circulation was soon restored. Then he
looked from the door of the chapel into the great nave. An old priest in
a brown robe was extinguishing the candles. Ned watched him until he
had put out the last one, and disappeared in the rear of the church.
Then he came forth and standing in the great, gloomy nave tried to
decide what to do next. He had found a night's shelter and no more. He
had escaped from prison, but not from the City of Mexico, and his Texas
was yet a thousand miles away.
Ned found the little door by which he had entered, and passed outside,
hiding again among the trees of the Zocalo.
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