The thickest of the flight had passed.

The sun was again shining; but upon what was he shining?
No longer upon green fields and a flowery garden.

No.

Around the house, on every side, north, south, east, and west, the eye rested only on black desolation.

Not a blade of grass, not a leaf could be seen--even the very bark was stripped from the trees, that now stood as if withered by the hand of God! Had fire swept the surface, it could not have left it more naked and desolate.