On Mordaunt's arrival at Oxford, at the conclusion of his late northern tour, his thoughts were so completely preoccupied, that he did not even take the trouble of inquiring whether the Earl was then in the neighbourhood. But as he was one evening sauntering along a retired road on the banks of the river, attending more to the painful reflections of his own mind than to a book which he mechanically held in his hand, he was suddenly roused from his meditations by the sound of a carriage coming furiously behind him; and, turning round, perceived a gentleman alone in a curricle, the horses of which were approaching at their utmost speed, and evidently ungovernable. The furious animals were making directly towards the river, and, if their course was not impeded, immediate destruction inevitably awaited their unfortunate driver. This reflection, and his consequent determination, was but a momentary effort of Augustus's mind. Throwing away his book, he sprang into the middle of the road; and, though the gentleman loudly exclaimed, "Take care of yourself--I cannot manage them," he deliberately kept his stand, and, at the moment the horses reached the spot, dexterously succeeded in grasping the reins, and stopping the carriage. The suddenness of the jolt, however, unfortunately broke the axle-tree, and threw the gentleman at a little distance on the road. A deep groan instantaneously followed his fall; and Augustus felt a painful conviction, that though his presence of mind had certainly saved the stranger's life at the imminent risk of his own, yet the very act had been the cause of much apparent suffering to him. He hesitated what to do:--the horses, still more frightened by the noise made by the breaking of the carriage, were almost furious; and it was as much as he could do to retain his hold, while the poor suffering man lay helplessly on the road. At length two grooms appeared, rapidly pursuing each other, with marks of the utmost consternation in their countenances; and while one jumped off his horse to assist his master, the other relieved Augustus from his troublesome charge. The Osselstone liveries proclaimed the stranger's name, as Augustus had not yet seen his face, and the discovery but increased his distress:--"Good God, my uncle! Are you much hurt, dear sir?" exclaimed he, in a tone of commiseration, almost of affection. At the sound of his voice the Earl languidly turned his head as his servant supported him; and, stretching out one hand, grasped that of Augustus, expressing tacitly, but not ineloquently, his gratitude to his preserver. Augustus flew to the side of the river, and bringing some water in his hat, sprinkled it over his face, which in a few moments so revived him, that he was able to articulate thanks, which Augustus, with looks of kindest anxiety, interrupted, with inquiries as to the injury he had evidently received in his fall. He soon found that one arm was broken, and Lord