His heavy boots--they were extremely thick and heavy, though without nails--tramped, tramped, on the hard road.

With a stout walking-stick in one hand, and in the other a book, he strode forward, still more swiftly as it seemed at every stride.

A tall young man, his features seemed thin and almost haggard; out of correspondence with a large frame, they looked as if asceticism had drawn and sharpened them.

There was earnestness and eagerness--almost feverish eagerness--in the expression of his face.

He passed the meadows, the stubble fields, the green root crops, the men at plough, who noticed his swift walk, contrasting with their own slow motion; and as he went his way now and then consulted a little slip of paper, upon which he had jotted memoranda of his engagements.