"A stranger wants a seat by the fire," muttered he, as he entered the bar.
"A stranger should have the best seat," said old Giles, moving quietly to offer him his arm-chair.
"I have been accustomed, sir, to take place according to my years," said the stranger, in a voice of peculiar melody, as he declined the offer, and, at the same time, chose a seat further from the fire, where the fitful light only sometimes partially illumed his countenance.
"Landlord," said he, "your guests will, I dare say, join me in my grog; bring enough, not forgetting yourself."
A short silence followed this speech, partly caused by the landlord's absence; during which all eyes were turned to observe the appearance of the last arrival. His figure was considerably above the middle height, but his limbs were in such exact proportion, that he preserved the appearance of strength which tall men often lose. His shoulders were broad, and his chest wide and expansive. The only sign of delicacy about him appeared in his hand, which, for his height, was small, and very white and smooth, ornamented by a plain signet ring. This, they had an opportunity of observing, for his head was resting on his hand, though, seemingly more in thought than fatigue. His eyes were large, dark, and penetrating, made to flash with anger, to command, or reprove; yet, bearing in general a cold still hue, as if more accustomed to command, or to suffer, than to ask, or supplicate the world's favour. The mouth was expressive of great sweetness, as long as his features continued, in repose, though the lips seemed especially capable of curling into a sneer. His nose was long and aquiline, and gave a character of boldness to the countenance; and a finely sloped head, well set upon his shoulders, added to his lofty bearing.
All these features, fitted to form a face of striking manly beauty, were quite spoilt by the fact that, while the whiskers, moustache, and finely arched eye-brows, were black; his hair, of which he wore a great deal, and that, too long for the English fashion, was of a bright red, and gave a very peculiar shade to his countenance.
His dress was half military, though remarkably simple, and on the present occasion, much soiled with long riding, and even shabby; with the exception of his boots, which appeared to have shared the care which had secured to the hand the marks of gentle breeding. It would have been very difficult to trace his age, in any part of his outward bearing, beyond the certainty that he was neither twenty nor fifty—anything between these two periods might have been attributed to him without much difficulty. Since his entrance he had not changed the position into which he had thrown himself; perfectly at ease in every limb, and still as a statue, he seemed scarcely aware of the observation he excited from his companions.
Probably he was inured to the weather, and indifferent to its effects, for he did not attempt to dry his clothes by drawing nearer the fire. Perhaps, his studious silence was intended to set his companions at ease, or, perhaps, occupied with other thoughts, he really forgot them after the first order he had given for their entertainment. However it might be, conversation gradually returned to its former channel, and he remained almost unnoticed.
The snowy afternoon led them to speak of the weather, when Martin enquired, with an indifferent tone—
"Did it come in upon you last night, Giles?"