She trusted her brother as
implicitly as John did.
John, taking thought with himself, concluded that she must be now in the
village. It was not possible that Chastel, silent as it was and desolate
as it seemed, could be entirely deserted. Although leaving ruin behind,
the fury of battle had passed and some of the people would return to
their homes. Chastel lay behind the French lines, a great hospital camp
was not far away, and the fear of further German invasion could not be
present now.
He put one hand in his overcoat pocket over the butt of the automatic,
and then, remembering how General Vaugirard whistled, he too whistled,
not for want of thought but to encourage himself, to make his heart beat
a little less violently, and to hear a cheerful sound where there was
nothing else but the soft swish of the snow and the desolate moaning of
the wind among the ruins.
He walked down the main street, and unconsciously stopped whistling.
Then the awful silence and desolation brooded over him again. The storm
was thickening, and the lights in the plain below were entirely gone
now. He was not yet able to find any proof of human life in Chastel,
and, after all, the fighting in the town might have been so recent and
so fierce that not one of the inhabitants yet dared to return. The
thought made his heart throb painfully.
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