He noticed that in the darkness and rain one might pass within fifty feet of the cottage without seeing it.
The wind increased and moaned among the oaks that grew around the house, but above the moaning the sounds of battle, the distant thunder of the artillery yet came.

The sport of kings was going merrily on.

Neither night nor storm stopped it and men were still being ground by thousands into cannon food.

But John had now a feeling of detachment.

Three days of continuous battle had dulled his senses.