It was the face of a man ailing both in mind and body.

But in two features youth still lingered.

The lips under their thatch of white moustache were full and red, and the eyes, of some colour between blue and grey, had for all their sadness a perpetual flicker of quick fire.
He shivered, for he was recovering from the fifth fever he had had since he left Plymouth.

The ailment was influenza, and he called it a calenture.

He was richly dressed, as was his custom even in outlandish places, and the furred robe which he drew closer round his shoulders hid a doublet of fine maroon velvet.