wife if he came safely out
of the struggle.

Just before he left for Brussels he had received a letter from Fred
Skane in which he said he was preparing Bandmaster for the big
steeplechase to be run in Trent Park over a course of four miles. This
would be a great event, a sort of Grand National on a small scale. He
hoped Alan would be able to come over and ride his horse; he must not
forget the date. With the owner up he thought Bandmaster had a chance
second to none.

During the excitement and suspense of his journey and stay in Brussels
he had forgotten all this but it came to mind now as he rode quietly on
toward danger. He remembered the date and began to reckon up, he had
lost count during the past few days but he knew there was very little
time to spare.

His message delivered, he would have no difficulty in obtaining leave.
He hoped to be home in time to ride Bandmaster a few gallops over the
course before the race took place.

He gave himself up to pleasant ruminations over his chance of winning
until he was rudely roused by a bullet whistling past his ear.

"Snipers about," was his first thought as he set his horse to a gallop.

Another bullet whizzed above his head. He looked round, but saw
nobody. It was dark; the sniper must have heard the sound of his
horse's hoofs and fired in that direction.

There were only two shots but they roused him out of his reverie and
put him on the alert.

Then he wondered how it came about that the sniper was behind the
German trenches. Jean told him he would have to pass them somehow.
Had he by some strange piece of luck got past the trenches? Was he
between two fires? That was hardly possible, yet it might be so.

He pulled his horse up and listened. A strange, buzzing sound was
heard--probably some aircraft, although it seemed too dark for aviators
to see their whereabouts.

He heard voices and movements of men. A gust of wind carried them
toward him. The men spoke German; he had only just stopped in time.

He had no idea where he was. To wait there until daylight would court
danger but in which direction ought he to go?

Had he reached a strip of "no man's land," a space left unborrowed and
unbroken, lying between two fires? If so he was "between the devil and
the deep sea," for he might be fired on by friend and foe alike.

It was a thrilling position, a solitary man on horseback on a dark
night on unknown ground and surrounded by enemies. Al