e enemy.

He waved his cap and, taking all risks, galloped toward the Allies'
lines. He knew where he was now. These trenches were the nearest to
headquarters and in a few minutes he would be in safety.

Something trickled down his face. He brushed it aside with his
hand--blood--his wound was more serious than he thought.

His left arm pained--blood on the sleeve. His left thigh twinged
sharply--there was blood here also.

"Must have had a narrow squeak," he thought. He felt faint, inclined
to swoon, but held on to his horse firmly.

His head swam, his sight grew dim, he heard a roar from the front
trench and then--oblivion.

When he came to he was being attended behind the firing line. He
wondered where he was, and tried to sit up, but fell back exhausted.
The doctor told him to keep still.

He slept several hours. When he awoke he was in the ambulance, jolting
farther away from the line.

It was twenty-four hours or more before he was able to stand. Once on
his legs he quickly recovered and, asking for his horse, which was near
at hand, declared his intention of riding to headquarters.

The doctor protested; but when Alan explained who he was and the nature
of his mission no further objections were raised.

"You have had a marvelous escape," said the doctor, looking at him
admiringly. "You are a brave man."

Alan smiled as he thanked him, saying there would have been many
officers who would have been glad of the chance to take his place and
run the risks.

He rode to headquarters and was heartily welcomed. In a few moments he
stood before his chief, who held out his hand, shook his heartily, and
congratulated him.

It was then Alan learned it had been reported that he was shot in
Bruges as a spy. No doubt this report had been made in order to save
the men responsible for his escape through the lines.

"Shot as a spy," thought Alan. "I wonder if it has been made public in
England. If so, what a terrible shock to Eve and all my friends."

He suppressed his feelings and gave an account of how he fulfilled his
mission.

"You must see King Albert at once," said the chief. "It was a blow to
him when he heard you were shot."

The news of Captain Chesney's return was soon noised abroad, and on all
sides he was congratulated.

He hunted up Skane's letter and found the date of the Trent Park Grand
Steeplechase would give him ample time to get home and ride Bandmaster
over the course two or