The individual in question, was a stout built, broad-shouldered, athletic man—­some five feet nine inches in height—­whose age, judging from his general appearance, as well as his features, might range from twenty-seven to thirty years.  At the moment when he appeared before our acquaintances of the foregoing chapter, his right arm was held in a manner so as to screen the lower portion of his face; while a hat, not very much unlike those of the present day, pressed down upon his forehead, left but little of his countenance, and that mainly about the eyes, visible.  With the latter he gave a quick, searching, suspicious glance at the two before him; and then, as if satisfied he had nothing to fear, lowered his arm and raised his hat from his forehead, exposing a physiognomy by no means pleasing to one skilled in reading the heart thereby.  His complexion was swarthy—­his skin coarse—­and the general expression of his features repulsive in the extreme; this expression arising from the combination of three distinct parts of his countenance—­namely:  the forehead which was low and receding from two dark-red, shaggy eye-brows,—­the eyes themselves, which were small, bloodshot and very fiery; and the mouth, which was narrow, thin-lipped, and habitually contracted into a sneering, sinister smile.  In this general expression, was combined cunning, deceit, treachery, and bloodthirsty ferocity—­each one of which passions were sufficiently powerful, when fully excited, to predominate over the whole combination.  The hair of his head was short, thick, coarse and red, grew low upon his forehead, and, in its own peculiar way, added a fierceness to his whole appearance.  Nature had evidently designed him for a villain of the darkest die; and on the same principle that she gives a rattle to a certain venomous snake, that other creatures may be warned of the deadly fang in time to avoid it—­so had she stamped him with a look wherein his passions were mirrored, that those who gazed thereon might know with whom and what they had to do, and be prepared accordingly.  The costume too of the stranger was rather singular, and worthy of note—­being composed, for the most part, of an extraordinary long frock or overcoat—­more like the gown of some monk than either—­which reached almost down to the moccasins covering his feet, and was laced together in front, nearly the whole length, by thongs of deerskin.  Around the waist passed a rude belt of the same material—­carelessly tied at one side—­in which, contrary to the usual custom of that period, there was not confined a single weapon, not even so much as a knife; and this fact, together with the general appearance of the individual and his own suspicious movements, led Algernon, almost at the first glance, to consider the long frock or gown an article of disguise, beneath which the stranger was doubtless doubly armed and costumed in a very different manner.