We, however, who are in no fear of having our heads blown off, may just as well take a peep inside.
Beneath the hood of the carriage sat an aged man wrapped up to the throat in a wolfskin _bunda_, and with a large astrachan cap on his head drawn down over his eyes.

Inside it one could make out nothing but the face.

It was a peculiar face, with eyes that looked strangely at you.

An errant spirit seemed to dwell in them; they spoke of a mind that had been destined for great, for amazing things.

But fate, environment, and neglect had here been too much for destiny, and the man had grown content to be extraordinary in mere trifles, and seemed quite surprised at the wonderful expression of his own eyes.