As he drove up to the door of the house, he remarked that one of his grooms was walking a hard-ridden horse up and down upon the gravel, while the dirty condition of the animal bespoke a long journey. As such sights, however, were not at all uncommon, and the horse might either belong to the steward, or to some stranger come on a visit of curiosity to the house, it excited but little notice on the part of the peer, who was entering without inquiry, when one of the servants informed him that a gentleman was waiting his lordship's return in the small library. Lord Dewry turned a little pale; for there was a consciousness of danger and of the uncertainty of his condition at the heart of the peer, that caused the blood to forsake his cheek at any announcement of a visit, the import of which he did not know. He rebuked the servant, however, for admitting any one to wait for him during his absence; and ordered him never to do so again, adding, that when he expected or wished to see any one, he would always give intimation of his will.

The servant excused himself on account of the stranger's pressing and determined manner, motives which did not in the least reconcile the peer to his admission; but, without any further appearance of distrust, he walked with slow and stately steps to the library, and throwing open the door advanced towards a table, determined not to afford his unwished-for guest a pretext for sitting down by even approaching a chair himself.

The Gipsy (Vols I & II) — Part 187

The stranger's person merits some slight description, and even a more detailed account of his clothing than is required on ordinary occasions. He was a man perhaps four or five years younger than the peer himself, thin, light, active, with a twinkling gray eye, somewhat too full of moisture, and a number of those long radiating wrinkles which, I believe, are called crows' feet, decorating the corners of the eyelids. His general complexion was white, of that dry and somewhat withered appearance which long habits of dissipation leave behind, when dissipation is not combined with drunkenness. In every glance there was a quick, sharp, prying expression, joined to a somewhat subservient smile, which was strangely enough displayed upon a cast of countenance, the natural expression of which was pertinacious effrontery.

The Gipsy (Vols I & II) — Part 187