I saw, too, that their eyes passed by me, seeing nothing to charm them in the person of an insignificant and grizzled old man.

Then they looked with evident astonishment on the grim form of old Umslopogaas, who raised his axe in salutation.

Attracted next by the splendour of Good's apparel, for a second their glance rested on him like a humming moth upon a flower, then off it darted to where Sir Henry Curtis stood, the sunlight from a window playing upon his yellow hair and peaked beard, and marking the outlines of his massive frame against the twilight of the somewhat gloomy hall.
He raised his eyes, and they met the fair Nyleptha's full, and thus for the first time the goodliest man and woman that it has ever been my lot to see looked one upon another.

And why it was I know not, but I saw the swift blood run up Nyleptha's skin as the pink lights run up the morning sky.

Red grew her fair bosom and shapely arm, red the swanlike neck; the rounded cheeks blushed red as the petals of a rose, and then the crimson flood sank back to whence it came and left her pale and trembling.
I glanced at Sir Henry.