Age about 36. Handsome features, but joyless;
dark eyebrows drawn towards one another; mouth set grimly;
nostrils large and strained: a face set to one tragic purpose. A
man of few words, fewer gestures, and much significance. On the
whole, interesting, and even attractive, but not friendly. He
stands for a moment, saturnine in the ruddy light, to see who is
present, looking in a singular and rather deadly way at Sir
Howard; then with some surprise and uneasiness at Lady Cicely.
Finally he comes down into the middle of the garden, and
confronts Rankin, who has been glaring at him in consternation
from the moment of his entrance, and continues to do so in so
marked a way that the glow in Brassbound's eyes deepens as he
begins to take offence.
BRASSBOUND. Well, sir, have you stared your fill at me?
RANKIN (recovering himself with a start). I ask your pardon for
my bad manners, Captain Brassbound. Ye are extraordinair lek an
auld college friend of mine, whose face I said not ten minutes
gone that I could no longer bring to mind. It was as if he had
come from the grave to remind me of it.
BRASSBOUND. Why have you sent for me?
RANKIN. We have a matter of business with ye, Captain.
BRASSBOUND. Who are "we"?
RANKIN. This is Sir Howrrd Hallam, who will be well known to ye
as one of Her Majesty's judges.
BRASSBOUND (turning the singular look again on Sir Howard). The
friend of the widow! the protector of the fatherless!
SIR HOWARD (startled).
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