"He's confounded cheeky
because his opinion has turned out correct. I never thought Captain
Chesney was shot, did you?"

"No," said Tom Thrush, "not likely."

"And Fred takes it all on himself. He goes about with his 'What did I
tell you?' until I'm sick of hearing it," said Abel.

"The main thing is, the master's alive; nowt else matters," said Tom.

"Heard from Jane lately?" asked Abel.

"No; can't make it out," said Tom gloomily.

"I hope it's all right with her. You were a fool to let her marry
him," said Abel.

"What's the sense in pitching that into me now?" growled Tom.

"I pitched it into you before it was too late, but you took no notice."

"Do you always follow good advice?" asked Tom.

"Maybe not, not always."

"Then dry up about me. I'm sorry, Abel, sorry for my lass; but he'd
best behave well to her or he'll know about it," said Tom savagely.

"Where are they?"

"Don't know; haven't heard from her since they left Margate."

"I'll tell you another thing, Tom. It's what I've always said, Carl
Meason's a German spy and it's my belief Jane's found him out."

"If that's so and she has you can lay she'll give him away, it's her
duty to do it," said Tom.

"Probably she will if he gives her a chance," was Abel's reply.

"What chance? He can't interfere with her."

"There's no telling what a man like that will do," answered Abel.

To return to Alan Chesney, he was anxious in the extreme. His wounds
troubled him but he endeavored to shake off the feeling. He had no
wish to be invalided at home. He wanted the change on his own account
and for a particular purpose, to ride Bandmaster in the Steeplechase.
He applied for leave, which was readily granted, and was ordered not to
return until quite well.

He told two or three of his brother officers why he was anxious to get
home and of course they were determined to have "a bet on" Bandmaster.
His servant heard the news and it quickly got about among the rank and
file.

A vexatious delay occurred--one of those small but important matters to
be attended to at the last minute which are forever turning up at
important moments.

Alan motored to Calais; and here again there was delay, no steamer
being available for several hours. He fretted and fumed about. If
this sort of thing continued there would be little chance of being home
in time to see the race, let alone ride.

He passed a restless time but at last the boat started and he was