There was Chastel only a few hundred yards away, now clearly visible despite the massive clouds that floated persistently across the sky.

Yet he made no attempt to reach it until his work was done, nor did he speak of it, not even to the chauffeur, Mallet, of whom he had made a good friend.
Near noon, the task finished, he ate luncheon and started toward Chastel.

His orders from Captain Colton allowed him much liberty, and he was not compelled to account to anyone, when he chose to enter the town.
He crossed the stream, muddy from the melting snow, on a small stone bridge, which he believed from its steep arch must date almost back to the time of the Romans, and pausing on the other side looked up once more at Chastel.

He had no doubt that, seen in the sunshine and as it was, it had been both picturesque and beautiful.

But now it lay half in ruins, under a sullen sky, and he beheld no sign of life.