His jaw and whole cast of countenance is manly and resolute, but
the eyes are the distinctive feature of his face. They are of the
very darkest hazel, bright and eager, with a singular mixture of
recklessness in their expression, and of something else which I
have sometimes thought was more allied with horror than any other
emotion. Generally the former predominated, but on occasions, and
more particularly when he was thoughtfully inclined, the look of
fear would spread and deepen until it imparted a new character to
his whole countenance. It is at these times that he is most
subject to tempestuous fits of anger, and he seems to be aware of
it, for I have known him lock himself up so that no one might
approach him until his dark hour was passed. He sleeps badly, and
I have heard him shouting during the night, but his cabin is some
little distance from mine, and I could never distinguish the words
which he said.
This is one phase of his character, and the most disagreeable one.
It is only through my close association with him, thrown together
as we are day after day, that I have observed it. Otherwise he is
an agreeable companion, well-read and entertaining, and as gallant
a seaman as ever trod a deck. I shall not easily forget the way in
which he handled the ship when we were caught by a gale among the
loose ice at the beginning of April. I have never seen him so
cheerful, and even hilarious, as he was that night, as he paced
backwards and forwards upon the bridge amid the flashing of the
lightning and the howling of the wind.
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