his shoulders. His features, as well as his expression, wore no trace of the old Armorican type, had about them nothing of its sad, severe earnestness and indomitable fidelity. There was evidently the wild, cunning, gypsy character about the dark, contracted features, and the bright, deeply cut eyes. In short, there was something in his whole appearance that awakened dislike as well as fear.
When he saw that he was observed, he stopped for an instant in his rapid walk, and seemed doubtful as to whether or not he would turn back. But just at that moment Dinorah happened to come to the door, busied with her spindle, and looking down.
As soon as he saw her, he came on again, but so slowly, that the miller more than once called upon him to make haste, adding, that in general he was light-footed enough, otherwise there would have been an end of his light feet long ago, and he would have had a couple of pounds of iron hung upon them. When the lad had come within a few steps of us, he stood still again, and cast furtive glances—differing, however, wonderfully in expression—first at us, and then at Dinorah. The miller then asked him if Judock was at home. He made no answer till Dinorah repeated the question, when he slowly said:
"He only can know that who comes from the Ravens' Cliff."
