Just above him within its grounds stood a large chateau, that had been riven through and through by shells.

The walls looked as if they were ready to fall apart and John shivered a little.

Farther on was a public building of some kind, destroyed by fire, all save the walls which stood, blackened and desolate, and now he saw that the cathedral too had been damaged.
A flake of snow, large and damp, settled on his hand.

The clouds were massing, directly over his head, and he feared another fall.

It was unfortunate, but nothing could drive him back, and finding a flight of stone steps he ascended them and entered the village.
Chastel had looked somber from the plain below, where some of the effect, John had thought, might be due to distance, but here it was a silent ruin, tragic and terrible.