door of the inn he fell
down in a fit. The people of the inn were round him in a moment, and
restoratives freely supplied. His sturdy nature soon revived; but,
with the moral and physical shock, his lips were slightly distorted
over his clenched teeth. His face, too, was ashy pale.

When he came to himself, the first face he noticed was that of Daniel
Cox, eying him, not with pity, but with puzzled curiosity. Cowen
shuddered and closed his own eyes to avoid this blighting glare. Then,
without opening them, he muttered, "What has befallen me? I feel no
wound."

"Laws forbid, sir!" said the landlady, leaning over him. "Your honor
did but swoon for once, to show you was born of a woman, and not made
of nought but steel. Here, you gaping loons and sluts, help the
Captain to his room amongst ye, and then go about your business."

This order was promptly executed, so far as assisting Captain Cowen to
rise; but he was no sooner on his feet than he waved them all from him
haughtily, and said, "Let me be. It is the mind--it is the mind;" and
he smote his forehead in despair, for now it all came back on him.

Then he rushed into the inn, and locked himself into his room. Female
curiosity buzzed about the doors, but was not admitted until he had
recovered his fortitude, and formed a bitter resolution to defend
himself and his son against all mankind.

At last there came a timid tap, and a mellow voice said, "It is only
me, Captain. Prithee let me in."

He opened to her, and there was Barbara with a large tray and a
snow-white cloth. She spread a table deftly, and uncovered a roast
capon, and uncorked a bottle of white port, talking all the time. "The
mistress says you must eat a bit, and drink this good wine, for her
sake. Indeed, sir, 'twill do you good after your swoon." With many
such encouraging words she got him to sit down and eat, and then filled
his glass and put it to his lips. He could not eat much, but he drank
the white port--a wine much prized, and purer than the purple vintage
of our day.

At last came Barbara's post-diet. "But alack! to think of your
fainting dead away! O Captain, what is the trouble?"

The tear was in Barbara's eye, though she was the emissary of Dame
Cust's curiosity, and all curiosity herself.

Captain Cowen, who had been expecting this question for some time,
replied, doggedly, "I have lost the best friend I had in the world."

"Dear heart!" said Barbara, and a big