It was a great head, and eyes, set deep, blazed under thick, white lashes.

His body was covered to the chin.
Dick saw that the man's anger was that of the caged wild beast, and there was something splendid and terrible about it.
"You infernal Yankees!" he cried, and his voice again rumbled like that of a lion.
"Colonel Charles Woodville, I presume ?" said Colonel Winchester politely.
"Yes, Colonel Charles Woodville," thundered the man, "fastened here in bed by a bullet from one of your cursed vessels in the Mississippi, while you rob and destroy!" And then he began to curse.

He drew one hand from under the cover and shook his clenched fist at them in a kind of rhythmic beat while the oaths poured forth.

To Dick it was not common swearing.

There was nothing coarse and vulgar about it.