His cheek was fair, his chin downy, his hair flaxen, his hat a white fur one, with along fleecy nap. He had neither trunk, valise, carpet-bag, nor parcel. No porterfollowed him. He was unaccompanied by friends. From the shrugged shoulders, titters, whispers, wonderings of the crowd, it was plain that he was, in theextremest sense of the word, a stranger.In the same moment with his advent, he stepped aboard the favorite steamerFid?le, on the point of starting for New Orleans. Stared at, but unsaluted, with theair of one neither courting nor shunning regard, but evenly pursuing the path ofduty, lead it through solitudes or cities, he held on his way along the lower deckuntil he chanced to come to a placard nigh the captain's office, offering a rewardfor the capture of a mysterious impostor, supposed to have recently arrived fromthe East; quite an original genius in his vocation, as would appear, though whereinhis originality consisted was not clearly given; but what purported to be a carefuldescription of his person followed.
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