CHAPTER XII.
In the first place, the stranger was almost tall enough to be shown as a giant; he towered to a stature of six feet six inches, English measure.
If his immense bones had been properly covered with flesh, he might have presented the rare combination of fine proportions with great height.

He was so miserably--it might almost be said, so hideously--thin that his enemies spoke of him as "the living skeleton." His massive forehead, his great gloomy gray eyes, his protuberant cheek-bones, overhung a fleshless lower face naked of beard, whiskers, and moustache.

His complexion added to the startling effect which his personal appearance produced on strangers.

It was of the true gipsy-brown, and, being darker in tone than his eyes, added remarkably to the weird look, the dismal thoughtful scrutiny, which it was his habit to fix on persons talking with him, no matter whether they were worthy of attention or not.

His straight black hair hung as gracelessly on either side of his hollow face as the hair of an American Indian.