But the place seemed deserted, although the trampled garden bore every sign of recent occupation. A bullock had been slaughtered by the fountain, and its horns and hide lay there. The flower beds had been ruthlessly trodden under foot, but a wealth of beautiful blossom still remained, and Harry Hawke plucked a Gloire de Dijon rose and chewed the stem between his teeth as he scampered up the grass slope on to the terrace.
The front door was wide open, as were several of the white casement windows, and from a magnificent candelabra suspended from the ceiling of the hall guttering candles threw a blaze of yellow light on to the tiled floor.
Even Hawke gaped with astonishment at the gorgeous gilded decorations of the walls and the white marble staircase that led to the upper floor.
"Why, it's like Madame Tussord's arter yer paid yer bob to go in," he said.
"And they've made a chamber of horrors of it," muttered Dennis, who overheard him, as he looked at the shattered mirrors, the full-length portraits fluttering in rags in their frames, and the gilt furniture, whose upholstery of silk brocade showed the traces of muddy boots and spurred heels.
One end of the hall was taken up by a huge open fireplace carved with life-size figures of laughing nymphs and fawns, and, with that coarse imbecility which passes current in Germany for humour, some wag had daubed the noses of the figures with vermilion.
Empty wine bottles lay beside a priceless marquetry table, whose top had been burned with cigar ends; and as the men scattered rapidly through the adjoining rooms, they found everywhere traces of German "kultur" which the vandals had left behind them.
Upstairs it was the same thing; hangings torn and slashed for the mere lust of destruction, smashed china, objectionable caricatures scrawled upon the walls, and upon the open grand piano in the salon a copy of the Hymn of Hate, with a half-smoked cigarette beside it.
"The beasts!" exclaimed young Wetherby, hot with indignation. "Wouldn't you like to turn our chaps loose in the Kaiser's palace at Potsdam, Dashwood?"
"My dear chap," said Dennis, "they wouldn't touch a thing if you did. It's only the Prussians who behave like this. Our fellows are gentlemen. At the same time, I know what you mean, and it makes one sick."