The gentleman sat down in the seat opposite the young officer, and drew
his fur wrap close about him. The young officer could not keep his eyes
off him, and he noted that his features seemed worn thin and arid, as by
passage through terrific peril,--as if he had been travelling for many
days without sleep and without food, straining forward to a goal of
safety, sick both in stomach and heart,--as if he had been rushing, like
the maniac of the Gospel, through dry places, seeking rest and finding
none. His hair, which should have been black, looked lustreless and
bleached, and his skin seemed as if his blood had lost all colour and
generosity, as if nothing but serum flowed in his veins. His eyes alone
did not look bloodless; they were weary and extravasated, as from
anxious watching. The young officer's compassion went out to the
stranger; for he thought he must be a conspirator, fleeing probably from
the infamous tyranny of Russian rule. But presently he spoke in such
good English that the idea of his being a Russian faded away.
"Excuse the liberty I take," said he, with a singularly winning smile;
"but let me advise you not to smoke that cigar.
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