Lucy was too much in earnest to give more than a nod in return. She took her own handkerchief and filled it with clean snow, scraped from below the surface. Then laying the cold compress carefully about the officer's swollen wrist, she fastened it firmly in place with his handkerchief. The result had a bulky look, but it gave the aching wrist a good deal of comfort, for her patient's voice sounded sincere when he exclaimed:
"That's good! That was just the right thing for it. You seem to be a very wise young lady." He smiled at her as he fingered the snow bandage critically. "Might I ask your name?" he added, as Lucy, feeling shy again after her bold attempt at assistance, flicked the snow from her bare hands with her glove.
"Lucy Gordon," she said, looking up at this; "and my brother's name is William."
"So is mine," declared the Frenchman, with a friendly glance in William's direction, "only I don't say it quite that way. Your father is an officer on the post?" he inquired.
"Yes; a major on the staff," explained Lucy; then, feeling expansive in the presence of a listener who could so well understand her, she added, "My older brother is an aviator. He went to France in the summer and now he is a prisoner in Germany."
"No! A prisoner?" was the quick and sympathetic response, as the dark eyes lighted up with a look of keen interest. "Ah, that is hard!" he said softly; "but your brother did his best for his country, and still his life is spared. We can only hope that soon the war may be won, and our friends come back to us."
Lucy nodded, her eyes sad and wistful for a moment as she said, "He loved flying. He came from West Point only last August, but he was transferred to the Aviation Corps right away. Look, Captain Jourdin—they must be coming after you."
A little group of men had started over from the aviation field, evidently to find out the cause of the aviator's protracted stop, and at sight of them Captain Jourdin rose at once to his feet, signaling with his left arm to reassure them.
"I shall need a mechanic before that machine rises again," he remarked, "so I must go forward and explain to Captain Brent." He turned back to Lucy and held out his unbandaged hand. "You will excuse me," he said, smiling, "if I do not offer you the other. Good-bye and many thanks, Miss Lucie. I shall hope to meet that brother of yours, the aviator, before many long months. My very good wishes for his near and safe return." He held up his bandaged wrist, adding, "It is you I have to thank that this is no longer painful."