He was most elegantly attired, and carried a sword.
His face was rather handsome, but he had a dark, wicked-looking eye.
There was an uneasy twitch about his mouth, and when he smiled he showed a set of large teeth.
When he entered the room, he cast a quick, vicious look towards Ned.
Immediately after, however, he wore a forced smile, and shook Sir Richard very cordially with his ungloved hand.
He turned towards Wildfire Ned, and extended his hand towards him also, in a cold, formal way.
“It is not necessary,” said Ned, with a proud toss of his head; “your hand is cold and clammy; it gives me the shivers; its feel is fishy, Phillip Redgill.”
Saying this, he left the room with a flashing eye and proud step.
“Queer youth that, Sir Richard,” said Phillip, with a bitter smile.
“At the same time,” he thought, “I’d give a thousand pounds to know he was dead; he seems thrown in my path to thwart me.”