Mrs. Gordon’s eyes filled with sudden tears at his words. His grief and sympathy were so sincere and real that the little he said meant much to her. He had suffered with them during Lucy’s captivity, and she and Bob had no secrets from him.
“I have nothing to tell you, dear Dick,” she said unsteadily. “The news Bob brought is the last we have.” As she spoke her thoughts went back a year to Governor’s Island, to Lucy’s and this young officer’s pleasant friendship. How long it seemed since the July morning that Lucy had waked her to tell her that Dick’s regiment had gone.
“I can’t help hoping for the best,” Captain Harding was saying when she listened to him again. “It seems so wonderful that the Colonel has recovered and that Lucy has found that precious old Elizabeth to watch over her. With such good luck I keep looking for more, and, do you know, I’m almost sure it will come.”
It was faint enough consolation, but somehow it cheered Mrs. Gordon a little. She smiled at the young officer, thanking him in her heart for his determined optimism. At the same moment a nurse came up to offer her a cup of tea and a chance to wash her dusty face and hands. Beginning to realize her travel-stained appearance she gladly accepted, leaving Captain Harding at Bob’s side for a few minutes.
“Dick,” said Bob thoughtfully, after his mother had left the two alone, “I’m going to tell her my scheme. It’s only fair.”
“Your plan to bring Lucy out?” asked Captain Harding, ruffling his hair with a nervous hand, while the troubled anxious look returned to his face. “It seems—almost impossible. No, I won’t be a wet-blanket,” he added quickly, as Bob frowned at him. “I don’t blame you for attempting the impossible. It’s beyond endurance to leave her there, and we don’t seem much nearer to recapturing the town.”
“It’s a question of getting some of the information we need or of waiting for reinforcements for a mass attack along this front. I can’t wait any longer without trying something. Mother is worrying herself sick. If I landed once behind Château-Plessis why can’t I do it again, and even recross the German lines in safety, with help from you fellows on this side?”
“May I join you, comrades?” asked Captain Jourdin’s voice from a few steps away. The Frenchman had paused on his way across the ward for Bob’s invitation, which was not slow in coming.
“You’re just the person we wish to see!” Bob exclaimed, reaching out a hand to his friend in warm welcome. “It was bully of you to come over. No flights this morning? There’s another chair for you, Dick,” he added to Captain Harding, who had yielded his own seat to the aviator.
“Yes, but I came down again early. Things are quiet along the line since last night. What is your discussion, if I may know?”