Chastel, a village of light--light for him--would be at the end of his journey.
Despite mud, slush and snow, traveling was pleasant.

The automobile had made wonderful changes.

One could go almost anywhere in it, and its daring drivers whisked it gaily over fields, through forests and up hills, which in reality could be called mountains.

War had merely increased their enterprise, and they took all kinds of risks, usually with success.
John was very comfortable now, as he leaned back in the armored car, driven by a young Frenchman.

He wore a heavy blue overcoat over his uniform, and his only weapon was a powerful automatic revolver in his belt, but it was enough.