I knew the windlestraw, Guy de Villehardouin, a raw young provincial, come up the first time to Court, but a fiery little cockerel for all of that.

He was red-haired.

His blue eyes, small and pinched close to ether, were likewise red, at least in the whites of them; and his skin, of the sort that goes with such types, was red and freckled.

He had quite a parboiled appearance.
As I passed him by a sudden movement he jostled me.

Oh, of course, the thing was deliberate.