ading part had been played by himself or his friends.

He became quite a popular character, except with one or two envious
bodies, whom he eclipsed; they revenged themselves by saying it was all
braggadocio: his battles had been fought over a bottle, and by the
fireside.

The district east and west of Knightsbridge had long been infested with
foot-pads; they robbed passengers in the country lanes, which then
abounded, and sometimes on the King's highway, from which those lanes
offered an easy escape.

One moonlight night Captain Cowen was returning home alone from an
entertainment at Fulham, when suddenly the air seemed to fill with a
woman's screams and cries. They issued from a lane on his right hand.
He whipped out his sword and dashed down the lane. It took a sudden
turn, and in a moment he came upon three foot-pads, robbing and
maltreating an old gentleman and his wife. The old man's sword lay at
a distance, struck from his feeble hand; the woman's tongue proved the
better weapon, for, at least, it brought an ally.

The nearest robber, seeing the Captain come at him with his drawn sword
glittering in the moonshine, fired hastily, and grazed his cheek, and
was skewered like a frog the next moment; his cry of agony mingled with
two shouts of dismay, and the other foot-pads fled; but, even as they
turned, Captain Cowen's nimble blade entered the shoulder of one, and
pierced the fleshy part. He escaped, however, but howling and bleeding.

Captain Cowen handed over the lady and gentleman to the people who
flocked to the place, now the work was done, and the disabled robber to
the guardians of the public peace, who arrived last of all. He himself
withdrew apart and wiped his sword very carefully and minutely with a
white pocket-handkerchief, and then retired.

He was so far from parading his exploit that he went round by the park
and let himself into the "Swan" with his private key, and was going
quietly to bed, when the chambermaid met him, and up flew her arms,
with cries of dismay. "Oh, Captain! Captain! Look at you--smothered
in blood! I shall faint."

"Tush! Silly wench!" said Captain Cowen. "I am not hurt."

"Not hurt, sir? And bleeding like a pig! Your cheek--your poor cheek!"

Captain Cowen put up his hand, and found that blood was really welling
from his cheek and ear.

He looked grave for a moment, then assured her it was but a scratch,
and offered to convince her of that. "Bring me som