SANCTUARY Ned Fulton's sleep was that of exhaustion, and it lasted long.

Although fine snow yet fell outside, and the raw wind blew it about, a pleasant warmth pervaded the snug alcove, made by the back of the pew in which he lay.

He had been fortunate indeed to find such a place, because the body of the church was gloomy and cold.

But he did not hear the winds, and no thought of the snow troubled him, as he slept on hour after hour.
The night passed, the light snow had ceased, no trace of it was left on the earth, and the brilliant sunshine flooded the ancient capital with warmth.

People went about their usual pursuits.