An extract from the account which appeared in _The Daily Chronicle_ the
following morning was as follows:--

"One bomb fell on Notre Dame Cathedral piercing the vault of one of the
Chapels on the right transept and wreaking irreparable damage to the
beautiful old glass of its gothic windows. This same bomb, which must
have been of considerable size, sent débris flying into the courtyard of
the Lamarcq Hospital full of Belgian wounded being tended by English
Nurses.

"Altogether these Yeomanry nurses behaved admirably, for all the menfolk
with the exception of the doorkeeper" (and Pierre, please), "fled for
refuge to the cellars, and the women were left. In the neighbourhood one
hears nothing but praise of these courageous Englishwomen. Another bomb
fell on a railway carriage in which a number of mechanics--refugees from
Lille--were sleeping, as they had no homes of their own. The effect of
the bomb on these unfortunate men was terrible. They were all more or
less mutilated; and heads, hands, and feet were torn off. Then flames
broke out on top of this carriage and in a moment the whole was one huge
conflagration.

"As the Zeppelin drew off, its occupants had the sinister satisfaction
of leaving behind them a great glare which reddened the sky for a full
hour in contrast with the total blackness of the town."

Chris took out "Flossie," and was on the scene of this last disaster as
soon as she could get into her clothes after being so roughly awakened
by the splinters of glass.

When the day staff arrived from the "Shop-window," what a sight met