The great Gothic spire hung over a scene of desolation and ruin, now complete save for the cathedral itself.

Otherwise not an undamaged house remained in Chastel.

Fires still smoldered, and the largest of them all, marked where the Hotel de l'Europe had stood.

The firing had ceased save for a distant murmur where the cavalry still pursued, and John choked as he gazed at ruined Chastel.

He looked most often at the burning Hotel de l'Europe where he had spent such happy hours, the happiest, in truth, of his life, hours that glowed.