CHAPTER IV
THE HOTEL AT CHASTEL
John was fast finding that in a crowded country like Europe, suddenly
ravaged by war, nothing was more common than abandoned houses. People
were continually fleeing at a moment's warning. He had already made use
of two or three, at a time when they were needed most, and here was
another awaiting him. Before he pushed open the door he had already read
above it, despite the incrustations of snow, the sign, "Hotel de
l'Europe," and he felt intuitively that they were coming into good
quarters. He was so confident of it that his cheerful mood deepened,
turned in fact into joyousness.
As he held open the door he took off his cap, bowed low and said:
"Enter my humble hotel, Madame la Princesse. Our guests are all too few
now, but I promise you, Your Highness, that you and your entourage shall
have the best the house affords. Behold, the orchestra began the moment
you entered!"
As he spoke the deep thunder of guns came from invisible points along
the long battle-line. The firing of the cannon was far away but the
jarring of the air was distinct in Chastel, and the windows of the
hotel shook in their frames. John and Julie had become so used to it
that it merely heightened their fantastic mood.
"Yours is, in truth, a most welcome hotel," she said, "and I see that we
shall not be annoyed by other guests.
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