"Little yellow heels should keep out of sight,"-- which was not meant in rudeness, but only, according to an Island saying, that little people should not express opinions on matters which don't concern them.
Before he could say more, the door behind me swung open and a surprised voice cried-- "Diantre! What is this?
And who are you, mon gars ?" and I was facing Carette's father, Jean Le Marchant, of whose doings I had heard many a wild story on Sercq.
He was a very striking-looking man, tall and straight, and well-built.

His face was keen as a hawk's, and tanned and seamed and very much alive.

His eyes were very sharp and dark, under shaggy white eyebrows.

They seemed to go through me like a knife, and made me wish I had not come.

His hair was quite white, and was cut so short that it bristled all over, and added much to his fierce wide-awake look, as though he scented dangers all round and was ready to tackle them with a firm hand.