He was a very tall man of more than six feet in height. He was very
erect and very slender, with the slenderness that gives a look of youth
as well as grace. There was no tinge of gray in his tawny hair, which
fell heavily back from his high, narrow forehead, without any of the
stiffness seen in his later portraits. He was not more than thirty-five
years of age at this time, but his face was already lined with care and
trouble and exposure. It was naturally pale and thin, almost haggard.
Its sole redeeming feature was the wonderful brilliance of his blue
eyes. The doctor and David could not see the color of his eyes, and yet
he seemed to them a singularly handsome man, as he did to almost every
one. There was something about him that may be called a presence, for
lack of a better term, something which drew the gaze of the crowd and
held it everywhere. Many eyes were upon him that night in the very
height and centre of all the frenzy. Glances were cast at him even from
the pulpit, which was not far away. One of the ministering preachers
gave him a look of recognition, and then, bending down, whispered in the
ear of another preacher, a very young man who stood below the pulpit
among the fallen, exhorting them to repentance.
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