regular and noble in its contour, his look so mild and yet so earnest
and penetrating, his broad brow so clear and lofty, that the most
careless observer could not doubt that he was endowed with the best
qualities of human nature. Besides this, there were unquestionable
indications that he had been a sufferer. If a simple glance at his
features did not impress one with a conviction of this fact, it was
confirmed by the fringe of silvery hair that straggled over his temples,
and the sombre, melancholy fire that glimmered in his eyes like the last
rays of expiring hope.

His dress was in perfect keeping with his physiognomy. It was of that
neat and simple style which always characterizes a man of the world who
is governed by refined and elegant tastes. His linen was spotlessly
white, his cloth extremely fine, and his well-brushed hat shone smartly
in the sunshine. Occasionally, as some one passed on the road, he might
be seen to draw forth a handsome gold snuff-box and inhale a pinch with
so graceful an air that an observer would be convinced he belonged to
the highest classes of society. A malicious eye, it is true, might have
discovered by close inspection that the brush had been too familiar with
his coat and worn it threadbare, that his silk hat had been doctored to
preserve its lustre and smoothness, and that his gloves were elaborately
darned. If an inquisitive critic could have pried into the bottom of the
vehicle, he would have detected a large crack in the side of the left
boot, beneath which a gray stocking had been carefully masked with ink.
Still, all these signs of poverty were so artfully concealed, and his
dress worn with so careless an air of opulence and ease, that every body
might have supposed the traveller did not put on better clothes only
because he had a whim for bad ones.

The _calèche_ had rolled along rapidly for about two hours, when the