“But the house is partly wrecked, too, Jack.”
“Yes, you can see it’s been bombarded,” the other admitted, “and several shells tore holes right through the walls. One knocked off that corner; another made this great gap in the ground when it burst. Limbs were torn from the trees too. And, taken in all, I’d say it must have been pretty warm in this section about that time.”
“Shall we risk climbing up to the tower?” asked Amos.
“Why not? The house doesn’t look as though it would crumble and collapse. It would stand another bombardment, I reckon,” and as he spoke Jack boldly led the way through the open doorway.
The interior was a sad wreck. Piles of plaster lay on the floors, and several rooms looked as though it might be dangerous to try and pass through them. Amos glanced this way and that with something of a shiver. It was as though he half anticipated making some sort of gruesome discovery amidst those telltale rubbish heaps.
Fortunately, nothing of the kind happened, and after climbing laboriously for a short time the two boys finally managed to reach the cupola or tower, where they immediately found themselves amply repaid for all their trouble with a wonderful panoramic view.
CHAPTER XI.
WATCHING THE BATTLE EBB AND FLOW.
“It was worth all the trouble, Jack,” admitted Amos.
They could see far away beyond where the doomed Belgian village undoubtedly lay. Billows of smoke shrouded most objects, but at times the wind swept this aside, and at such moments they could obtain glimpses of the fighting.