'_I think,_' he wrote, '_that you and I will meet again soon, my old friend.

Do you remember when we went after the big black-maned lion in the Rooirand and couldn't get on his track, and then one morning we woke up and said we would get him today ?--and we did, but he very near got you first.

I've had a feel these last days that we're both going down into the Valley to meet with Apolyon, and that the devil will give us a bad time, but anyhow we'll be together._' I had the same kind of feel myself, though I didn't see how Peter and I were going to meet, unless I went out to the Front again and got put in the bag and sent to the same Boche prison.

But I had an instinct that my time in Biggleswick was drawing to a close, and that presently I would be in rougher quarters.

I felt quite affectionate towards the place, and took all my favourite walks, and drank my own health in the brew of the village inns, with a consciousness of saying goodbye.