studied his appearance more closely than she would otherwise have done. He
struck her at once as being exceedingly good looking in a strong and manly
way. His profile showed clear-cut and regular features, with a mouth and
chin bespeaking firmness and determination. His face in repose was grave,
almost stern, but she had seen it melt in sudden tenderness as he sprang to
her aid when she had felt faint. She noticed that his eyes were very
attractive and unusually dark--due, although she did not know it, to the
Spanish strain in him as in so many other Irish of the far west of
Connaught--and with his darker hair, which had a little wave in it, and his
small black moustache they gave him an almost foreign look. The girl had a
sudden mental vision of him as a fierce rover of bygone days on the Spanish
Main. But when, in a swift transition, little laughter-wrinkles creased
around his eyes that softened in a merry smile, she wondered how she could
have thought that he looked fierce or stern. Although, like many of her
sex, she was a little prejudiced against handsome men, and he certainly was
one, yet she was strongly attracted by his appearance. Probably the very
contrast in colouring and type between him and her made him appeal to her.
He was as dark as she was fair. And when he was standing on the ground she
had seen that he was well above middle height with a lithe and graceful
figure displayed to advantage by his careless costume of loose khaki shirt
and Jodpur breeches. The breadth of his shoulders denoted strength, and his
rolled-up sleeves showed muscular arms burned dark by the sun.

"How did you manage to come up just at the right moment to rescue me?" she
asked. "I have not thanked you yet for saving me, but I do so now most
heartily. I can't tell you how grateful I feel. I am sure, no matter what
you say, that those elephants would have killed me if you hadn't come."

Dermot laughed.