They stood up, and looked forth upon their judges and the jury like
brave men, desperadoes though they were. They were, without exception,
calm and collected, as if aware that they had small chance of escape,
but still determined not to give that chance away. One young man
especially attracted my attention, from the bold, cool self--possession
of his bearing. He was in the very front of the dock, and dressed in no
way different from the rest, so far as his under garments were
concerned, unless it were that they were of a finer quality. He wore a
short green velvet jacket, profusely studded with knobs and chains, like
small chain--shot, of solid gold, similar to the shifting button lately
introduced by our dandies in their waistcoats. It was not put on, but
hung on one shoulder, being fastened across his breast by the two empty
sleeves tied together in a knot. He also wore the red silk sash,
through which a broad gold cord ran twining like the strand of a rope.
He had no earrings, but his hair was the most beautiful I had ever seen
in a male--long and black, jet black and glossy. It was turned up and
fastened in a club on the crown of his head with a large pin, I should
rather say skewer, of silver; but the outlandishness of the fashion was
not offensive, when I came to take into the account the beauty of the
plaiting, and of the long raven lovelocks that hung down behind each of
his small transparent ears, and the short Hyperion--like curls that
clustered thick and richly on his high, pale, broad forehead.
Pages:
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368