at will.

But though Mr. Isaacs was endowed with exceptional gifts of beauty by a
bountiful nature, those I have enumerated were by no means what first
attracted the attention of the observer. I have spoken of his graceful
figure and perfect Iranian features, but I hardly noticed either at our
first meeting. I was enthralled and fascinated by his eyes. I once saw
in France a jewel composed of six precious stones, each a gem of great
value, so set that they appeared to form but one solid mass, yielding a
strange radiance that changed its hue at every movement, and multiplied
the sunlight a thousand-fold. Were I to seek a comparison for my
friend's eyes, I might find an imperfect one in this masterpiece of the
jeweler's art. They were dark and of remarkable size; when half closed
they were long and almond-shaped; when suddenly opened in anger or
surprise they had the roundness and bold keenness of the eagle's sight.
There was a depth of life and vital light in them that told of the
pent-up force of a hundred generations of Persian magii. They blazed
with the splendour of a god-like nature, needing neither meat nor strong
drink to feed its power.

My mind was made up. Between his eyes, his temperance, and his dental
consonants, he certainly might be an Italian. Being myself a native of
Italy, though an American by parentage, I addressed him in the language,
feeling comparatively sure of his answer. To my surprise, and somewhat
to my confusion, he answered in two words of modern Greek--"[Greek: _den
enoêsa_]"--"I do not understand." He evidently supposed I was speaking a
Greek dialect, and answered in the one phrase of that tongue which he
knew, and not a good phrase at that.

"Pardon me," said I in English, "I believed you a countryman, and