do, I thinks his cassock was worn, but he paid his way."

"Keep late hours?"

"Not when he was in town; but he had a country cure."

"Then you have let him in after midnight."

"Nay, I keep no such hours. I lent him a pass-key. He came in and out
from the country when he chose. I would have you to know he was an old
man, and a sober man, and an honest man: I'd wager my life on that.
And excuse me, sir, but who be you, that do catechise me to about my
lodgers?"

"I am an officer, madam."

The simple woman turned pale, and clasped her hands. "An officer!" she
cried. "Alack! what have I done now?"

"Why, nothing, madam," said the wily Bradbury. "An officer's business
is to protect such as you, not to trouble you, for all the world.
There, now, I'll tell you where the shoe pinches. This Captain Cowen
has just sworn in a court of justice that he slept here on the 15th of
last October."

"He never did, then. Our good parson had no acquaintances in the town.
Not a soul ever visited him."

"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 cam