His eyes were as blue as an Italian sky, and his hair fell in a mass of tawny curls to his shoulders.

His mother likened him to a young lion.

Mentally he was slow, but his judgment was clear and accurate.

Above all, he was honest, and knew not fear of man, beast, or devil.

His life in Styria, hedged about by ceremonious conventions, had given him an undue portion of dignity and reticence, but that could easily be polished down by friction with the rougher side of the world.