He heard a faint murmur of voices and a pleasant odor came to his nostrils.

He quickly remembered everything, and, stirring a little on his wooden couch he found a certain stiffness in the joints.

He realized however that all his strength had come back.
But Ned Fulton understood, although he had escaped from prison and had found shelter and sanctuary in the cathedral, that he was yet in an extremely precarious position.

The murmur of voices told him that people were in the church, and he had no doubt that the odor came from burning incense.
A little light from the narrow window fell upon him.

It came through colored glass, and made red and blue splotches on his hands, at which he looked curiously.