“Thank you,” said Peter.  “Motoring’s a long sight better than the train these days, and I’ll get in quicker, too, as a matter of fact, or at any rate just as quickly.”  He turned to go, but a thought struck him.  “Have you an orderly to spare?” he asked.

“Any quantity,” said the other bitterly.  “They’ve been detailed for weeks, and done nothing.  You can have one with pleasure.  It’ll give the perisher something to do.”

“Thanks,” said Peter; “I want to send a note, that’s all.  May I write it here?”

He was given pen and paper, and scribbled a little note to Julie.  He did not know who else might be on the lorry, or if she would want to appear to know him.  The orderly was called and despatched and he left the place for the last time.

Langton and he walked out to St. Riquier in the afternoon, had tea there, and got back to dinner.  A note was waiting for Peter, a characteristic one.

“DEAREST SOLOMON (it ran),

“You are really waking up!  There will be three of us nurses in one lorry, and they’re sure to start you off in another.  We lunch at Eu, and I’ll be delighted to see you.  Then you can go on in our car.  Dieppe’s on the knees of the gods, as you say, but probably we can pull off something.

“JULIE.”

He smiled and put it in his pocket.  Langton said nothing till the coffee and liqueurs came in.  Then he lit a cigarette and held the match out to Peter.  “Wonder if we shall meet again?” he said.

“Oh, I expect so,” said Peter.  “Write, anyway, won’t you?  I’ll likely get a chance to come to Rouen.”

“And I likely won’t be there.  I’m putting in again for another job.  They’re short of men now, and want equipment officers for the R.A.F.  It’s a stunt for which engineering’s useful, and I may get in.  I don’t suppose I’ll see much of the fun, but it’s better than bossing up a labour company, any road.”

“Sportsman,” said Peter.  “I envy you.  Why didn’t you tell me?  I’ve half a mind to put in too.  Do you think I’d have a chance?”

“No,” said Langton brutally.  “Besides, it’s not your line.  You know what yours is; stick to it.”

“And you know that I’m not so sure that I can,” said Peter.

“Rot!” said the other.  “You can if you like.  You won’t gain by running away.  Only I give you this bit of advice, old son:  go slow.  You’re so damned hot-headed!  You can’t remake the world to order in five minutes; and if you could, I bet it wouldn’t be a much better old world.  We’ve worried along for some time moderately well.  Don’t be too ready to turn down the things that have worked with some success, at any rate, for the things that have never been tried.”

Peter smoked in silence.  Then he said:  “Langton you’re a bit different from what you were.  In a way, it’s you who have set me out on this racket, and it’s you who encouraged me to try and get down to rock-bottom.  You’ve always been a cautious old rotter, but you’re more than cautious now.  Why?”