"My captain sent me congratulations on my exchange. They had tried to negotiate one before, to see if they could find out what had become of us—especially Benton. But it fell through, and they couldn't discover anything. It was only the fever that let me out. The German they exchanged me for is a first rate pilot. I've seen him fly, and it makes me wild to think of his getting back to work before I can do my bit again. It's that makes a leave seem impossible, if I can get well here. If everybody sticks it out and does what he can to help win, before very long we'll all be home for good.
"Cousin Henry sails next week, so pretty soon you'll know all he has to tell about me. I'll never forget how good it looked to see his face when that train drew up beside the Swiss frontier. At first he looked worried, but not long, for I got well so fast. He thinks I'm all right now.
"It's only the first lap of the race that's over, but I came out of it with such luck, I'm not afraid to face the next."
Lucy and Marian had taken the letter up-stairs to read a second time, and when it was finished Marian looked at her cousin anxiously, for Lucy had fallen into a revery, and sat with sober, thoughtful eyes, and close-set lips. Marian thought she knew what the doubt of Bob's home-coming must mean to her.
"But, Lucy, he seems so well and happy," she said at last, uncertainly. "He wants so awfully to get back and fly."
Lucy raised her eyes and smiled, her chin cupped in her hand.
"I'm not worrying about him, Marian. It's just that there's a lot to think about."
In the long, hard days of Bob's imprisonment Lucy had found the courage to endure which Bob himself had sought so often. And once found she meant to cling to it. "Only the first lap of the race," Bob had said, but to Lucy it seemed as though the race were half won, for never, never, she told herself, would she again give way to hopeless fears—no matter what dark days were ahead— since out of the deadly danger of battle-field and prison camp Bob had once come safely back.