troubled time. When the weather was dark and stormy he used to stay
himself half the night, starting at every sound, and there are so many
sounds in the woods at night, all sorts of wild birds and little
animals that one never hears in the daytime--sometimes a rabbit would
dart out of a hole and whisk round a corner; sometimes a big buse
(sort of eagle) would fly out of a tree with great flapping of wings;
occasionally a wild-cat with bright-green eyes would come stealthily
along and then make a flying leap over the bushes. His nerves were so
unstrung that every noise seemed a danger, and he had visions of
Germans lying in ambush in the woods, waiting to pounce upon W. if he
should appear. He said Paddy was so wise, seemed to know that he must
be perfectly quiet, never kicked nor snorted.

It was impossible to realise those dreadful days when we were riding
and walking in the woods, so enchanting in the early summer, with
thousands of lilies of the valley and periwinkles growing wild, and a
beautiful blue flower, a sort of orchid. We used to turn all the
village children into the woods, and they picked enormous bunches of
lilies, which stood all over the château in china bowls. I loved the
wood life at all seasons. I often made the round with W. and his
keepers in the autumn when he was preparing a battue. The men were
very keen about the game, knew the tracks of all the animals, showing
me the long narrow rabbit tracks, running a long distance toward the
quarries, which were full of rabbit holes, and the little delicate
hoof-marks of the chevreuil (roe-deer) just where he had jumped across
the road. The wild boar was easy to trace--little twigs broken, and
ferns and leaves quite crushed, where he had passed. The wild boars
and stags never stayed very long in our woods--went through merely to
the forest of Villers-Cotterets--so it was most important to know the
exact moment of their passage, and there was great pride and