He wore a soldier's coat and belt, but no sword.

His age might have been fifty, but his face was so reddened by weather that it was hard to judge.

The thick straight black locks had little silver in them, but the hair that sprouted from a mole on the chin was grey.

His cheeks were full and the heavy mouth was pursed like that of a man in constant painful meditation.

He looked at first sight a grazier from the shires or some new-made squire of a moderate estate.