Part 39 (2/2)

His guards took very little notice of him. They knew he could not escape; moreover, they had orders to shoot if he attempted it.

It was a dull day and there was very little firing. He judged they were resting after the night attack. It was an awkward fix he was in but nothing daunted he puzzled his brains as to how to get out of it; they had tethered his horse close by--that was in his favor.

The officer did not return, and Alan had nothing to eat or drink--the soldiers did not offer him anything.

Night came on. He wondered whether he would be kept there or removed.

At last the young officer came, and with him a soldier carrying a bag which contained food. Alan was handed some, also given a drink, and the officer said he must remain there until next day. If he tried to escape he would be shot. Alan wondered why they did not take him to a more secure spot; something must have happened to prevent this.

He settled himself down, after taking good stock of his position and where the horse was. He pretended to sleep. The three soldiers were left on guard.

They seemed tired, they must have been many hours without sleep. They spoke together in low voices. Presently one of them lay down--it was evident they were to keep guard in turns.

Alan was wide awake and alert now. If he could only make a dash for his horse and spring into the saddle there would be a chance of escaping.

The two men on guard seemed drowsy. The man on the ground breathed heavily. Alan moved and loosened some stones. The men were alert in a moment and growled at him savagely. Alan waited about an hour--it seemed much longer. He knew exactly where the men were: one on either side, the other still on the ground.

Without a moment's warning he sprang to his feet, let out right and left, and by sheer good luck hit his men hard. He scrambled out of the hole, reached his horse, broke the rope by which it was tied to a stake, cutting his hands as he did so, sprang into the saddle and was galloping away at a great pace before his guard recovered from the shock. They dare not fire for fear of being discovered in the act of letting the prisoner go. The two roused their sleeping comrade, explained the situation, then marched off toward the enemy's lines.

They preferred surrender to the death awaiting them if they remained.

CHAPTER XXV

ALIVE AND WELL

Alan was far from being out of the wood, there was danger on every side, and it was light. Fortune favored him, for the enemy had suffered terrible losses and were occupied in beating a hasty retreat, what was left of them. The ground was covered with dead, dying, and wounded. As he rode rapidly to the right he got clear of them; several shots were fired and missed him.

A feeling of exultation possessed him as he neared his lines a couple of miles away. Once there he was safe, his perilous mission accomplished.

His horse s.h.i.+ed. Looking ahead he saw half a dozen forms hidden behind some stunted bushes. The enemy again. Rifles were pointed at him. It meant death if he went on.

He halted and faced his enemies, but showed no signs of giving in. The men crept forward, still covering him with their rifles. He was angry at the thought of being taken prisoner again. If recognized he would be shot off-hand. This was not at all likely although he was not aware of it.

Providence intervened in the shape of a sh.e.l.l which hurtled into the midst of the creeping men. There was a terrific explosion. Alan reeled in the saddle, recovered by a great effort, and managed to control his frightened horse. He was struck on the forehead but fortunately the peak of his cap saved him. Still the effect was stunning, stupefying. A whistling in the air and another sh.e.l.l burst, throwing up a cloud of mud and dirt round him, thus lessening the danger of being badly hit.

His enemies were cut up, shattered; but he had to ride for his life to avoid the sh.e.l.ls. He was in danger from his friends.

The horse was equal to the emergency and sped across the open s.p.a.ce at a great pace.

The solitary horseman seemed to puzzle the gunners, for they ceased firing. Probably he had been recognized as an officer escaping from the 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.

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