Together the horsemen continued the ascent of the hill.
Half way up, the road swerved towards the south-west. For a short distance the track was clear of trees, so that the moonlight fell full upon it. Here the two travellers, for the first time, obtained a distinct view of one another.
The stranger—who still retained his incognito—merely glanced towards his companion; and, seemingly satisfied with a slight inspection, allowed his eyes to wander elsewhere.
Perhaps during his halt before the hostelry, he had made a more elaborate examination of the young courtier.
Walter, on the other hand, had at the Inn caught only a glimpse of the black horseman. Now, though out of courtesy, looking furtively and askaunce, he proceeded to examine him more minutely.
The personal appearance of the latter was striking enough to court examination. Walter Wade was impressed with it—even to admiration.
He saw beside him, not a youth like himself, but a man in the full prime and vigour of manhood—perhaps over thirty years of age. He saw a figure of medium size, and perfect shape—its members knitted together, with a terseness that indicated true strength. He saw shoulders of elegant tuornure; a breast of swelling prominence; a full round throat, with jaws that by their breadth proclaimed firmness and decision. He saw dark brown hair, curling around a countenance, that in youth might have appeared under a fairer complexion, but was now slightly bronzed, as if stained with the tan of travel. He saw eyes of dark hazel hue—in the moonlight shining softly and mildly as those of a dove. But Walter knew that those same eyes could flash like an eagle’s: for he had seen them so fired, on first beholding them.
In short the young courtier saw by his side a man that reminded him of a hero of Middle Age romance—one about whom he had been lately reading; and whose character had made a deep impression upon his youthful fancy.
The dress of the cavalier was in perfect keeping with his fine figure and face. It was simple, although of costly material. Cloak, doublet, and trunks were of silk velvet of dark maroon colour. The boots were of the finest Spanish leather, and his hat a beaver—the brim in clasp coquettishly turned up, with a jewelled front holding a black ostrich feather that swept backward to his shoulder. A scarlet sash of China crape, looped around the waist—an embroidered shoulder-belt crossing the breast, from which dangled a rapier in richly-chased sheath; buff-coloured gloves, with gauntlets attached; cuffs of white lawn covering the sleeves of his doublet; and broad collar of the same extending almost to his shoulders. Fancy all these articles of costly fabric, fitted in the fashion of the time to a faultless manly figure, and you have a portrait of the cavalier whose appearance had won the admiration of Walter Wade.
The horse was in keeping with the rider—a steed of large size and perfect proportions—such as an ancient paladin might have chosen to carry him upon a crusade. He was of the true colour—a deep pure black, all except his muzzle where the velvet-like epidermis was tinged with yellowish red, presenting the hue of umber. Had his tail been suffered to droop, its tip would have touched the ground; but even while going into a walk it swung diagonally outward, oscillating at each step. When in the gallop, it floated upon the air spread and horizontal.