"Mother," said a young girl peeping in, "I think he knew somebody of that very name. He did ask me once to post a letter for him, and it was to some man of worship, and the name was Cowen, yes--Cowen 'twas. I'm sure of it. By the same token, he never gave me another letter, and that made me pay the more attention." "Jane, you are too curious," said the mother. "And I am very much obliged to you, my little maid," said the officer, "and also to you, madam," and so took his leave. One evening, all of a sudden, Captain Cowen ordered a prime horse at the "Swan," strapped his valise on before him, and rode out of the yard post-haste: he went without drawing bridle to Clapham, and then looked round him, and, seeing no other horseman near, trotted gently round into the Borough, then into the City, and slept at an inn in Holborn. He had bespoken a particular room beforehand.--a little room he frequented. He entered it with an air of anxiety. But this soon vanished after he had examined the floor carefully. His horse was ordered at five o'clock next morning. He took a glass of strong waters at the door to fortify his stomach, but breakfasted at Uxbridge, and fed his good horse. He dined at Beaconsfield, halted at Thame, and supped with his son at Oxford: next day paid all the young man's debts and spent a week with him. His conduct was strange; boisterously gay and sullenly despondent by turns. During the week came an unexpected visitor, General Sir Robert Barrington. This officer was going out to America to fill an important office. He had something in view for young Cowen, and came to judge quietly of his capacity. But he did not say anything at that time, for fear of exciting hopes he might possibly disappoint. However, he was much taken with the young man. Oxford had polished him. His modest reticence, until invited to speak, recommended him to older men, especially as his answers were judicious, when invited to give his opinion. The tutors also spoke very highly of him. "You may well love that boy," said Central Barrington to the father. "God bless you for praising him," said the other. "Ay, I love him too well." Soon after the General left, Cowen changed some gold for notes, and took his departure for London, having first sent word of his return. He meant to start after breakfast and make one day of it, but he lingered with his son, and did not cross Magdalen Bridge till one o'clock. This time he rode through Dorchester, Benson, and Henley, and, as it grew dark, resolved to sleep at Maidenhead. Just after Hurley Bottom, at four cross-roads, three highwaymen spurred on him from right and left. "Your money or your life!" He whipped a pistol out of his holster, and pulled at the nearest head in a moment. The pistol missed fire. The next moment a blow from the butt end of a horse-pistol dazed him, and he was dragged off his horse, and his valise emptied in a minute.