He
was not cross, only nervous. Suddenly he went back to the shed and
examined his _Vieux-Charles_. Why, the machine was not so bad after all;
the motor and guns had been repaired, and yesterday's accident was not
likely to happen again. If so, why not fly? In the absence of Heurtaux,
Guynemer was in command, and once more the necessity of setting a good
example forced itself upon him. Several flyers had started on scouting
work already; the fog was quickly lifting, the day would soon be
resplendent, and the notion of duty too quickly dazzled him, like the
sun. For duty had always been his motive power; he had always
anticipated it, from the day when he was fighting to enlist at Biarritz
to this 11th of September, 1917. It was neither the passion for glory
nor the craze to be an aviator which had caused him to join, but his
longing to be of use; and in the same way his last flights were made in
obedience to his will to serve.
All at once he was really resolved. _Sous-lieutenant_ Bozon-Verduraz was
requested to accompany him, and the mechanicians wheeled the machines
out.
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