Chapter 2

Sir Toby. "Excellent! I smell a device."

_Twelfth Night._

The strangers were three in number; for strangers the good-man Homespun,
who knew not only the names but most of the private history of every man
and woman within ten miles of his own residence immediately proclaimed
them to be, in a whisper to his companion; and strangers, too, of a
mysterious and threatening aspect. In order that others may have an
opportunity of judging of the probability of the latter conjecture, it
becomes necessary that a more minute account should be given of the
respective appearances of these individuals, who, unhappily for their
reputations, had the misfortune to be unknown to the gossipping tailor of
Newport.

The one, by far the most imposing in his general mien, was a youth who had
apparently seen some six or seven-and-twenty seasons. That those seasons
had not been entirely made of sunny days, and nights of repose, was
betrayed by the tinges of brown which had been laid on his features, layer
after layer in such constant succession, as to have changed, to a deep
olive, a complexion which had once been fair, and through which the rich
blood was still mantling with the finest glow of vigorous health. His
features were rather noble and manly, than distingiushed for their
exactness and symmetry; his nose being far more bold and prominent than
regular in its form, with his brows projecting, and sufficiently marked to
give to the whole of the superior parts of his face that decided
intellectual expression which is already becoming so common to American
physiognomy. The mouth was firm and manly; and, while he muttered to
himself, with a meaning smile, as the curious tailor drew slowly nigher,
it discovered a set of glittering teeth, that shone the brighter from
being cased in so dark a setting. The hair was a jet black, in thick and
confused ringlets; the eyes were very little larger than common, gray,
and, though evidently of a changing expression, rather leaning to mildness
than severity. The form of this young man was of that happy size which so
singularly unites activity with strength. It seemed to be well knit, while
it was justly proportioned, and strikingly graceful. Though these several
personal qualifications were exhibited under the disadvantages of the
perfectly simple, though neat and rather tastefully disposed, attire of a
common mariner, they were sufficiently imposing to cause the suspicious
dealer in buckram to hesitate before he would venture to address the
stranger, whose eye appeared riveted, by a species of fascination, on the
reputed slaver in the outer harbour. A curl of the upper lip, and another
strange smile, in which scorn was mingled with his mutterings, decided the
vacillating