It took them two hours to gain the neighborhood, so great were the ruins on all sides. Dead bodies were everywhere in evidence, some buried under tons and tons of fallen stones and bricks. Even the great cathedral and the massive bank buildings had not escaped. At last John Waterbury came to a halt and heaved a deep sigh. “As I thought,” he said. “Do you see yonder pile of smoking ruins? That was where our three-storied business building stood, with a stock of goods worth thirty thousand dollars. It is gone--every dollar of it--and my two partners and our four clerks have probably lost their lives also.” “It is awful!” murmured Mark. He could scarcely speak. “Simply awful! And where was the--the Hotel Rosa?” he faltered. “That building over yonder. I can tell it only by that twisted iron railing of the balcony. I have sat on that balcony many a time with my feet on the railing. It doesn’t seem to be destroyed as utterly as our building, but it is pretty well riddled.” And riddled it was, from top to bottom, with the back and one side wall completely demolished. In the street the wreckage lay five or six feet deep, and over all was the mud and lava dust, still hot. The boys’ feet were uncomfortably warm and looking at their shoes they found that the soles were seared as by a hot iron. There was no sign of life about the hotel. In one of the windows hung the half doubled up body of a man, burnt beyond all possible recognition. As the lads gazed at it a shiver passed over them impossible to suppress. Could that be--but no, it was too horrible--they would not believe it. “Let us go!” whispered Frank, hoarsely. “I--I can’t stand it!” And he swayed as if about to faint. Mark caught his chum by the arm, and both picked their way to where they had left John Waterbury. Nothing could be accomplished while the ruins were so hot, and the American business men accompanied them back to the shore below St. Pierre. Here they learned that the warship had sailed to another quarter of the island, but a relief boat named the _Ridalla_ was at hand, and they were taken on board this craft and made to feel at home. From those on board of the _Ridalla_, Mark and Frank learned that the _Vendee_ had been spoken several hours before, and that the steamer was now heading back to Martinique. She had suffered, as we already know, but nothing had been lost but a number of ropes and a corner of the cabin, which were burnt away. “I’m glad they are safe,” said Mark. “The _Vendee_ might have suffered like the _Roraima_ and those other ships.” An hour later a lookout announced the appearance of the _Vendee_, and not long after this the steamer came into the harbor and dropped anchor. At once Mark and Frank begged to be taken on board and their wish was speedily granted. “Mark! Frank!” The cry came from Darry, who chanced to be on deck, and the next moment the lad was fairly hugging the pair. “Well of all that is wonderful! We had given you both up as lost!”