to two sailors
who were passing the door of the boat-house at the time.

"Give the man some bread and meat," he said, "and wait near him."

The outcast seized on the bread and meat with lean, long-nailed hands
that looked like claws. After his first mouthful of the food, he
stopped, considered vacantly with himself, and broke the bread and meat
into two portions. One portion he put into an old canvas wallet that
hung over his shoulder; the other he devoured voraciously. Steventon
questioned him.

"Where do you come from?"

"From the sea."

"Wrecked?"

"Yes."

Steventon turned to Mrs. Crayford.

"There may be some truth in the poor wretch's story," he said. "I heard
something of a strange boat having been cast on the beach thirty or
forty miles higher up the coast. When were you wrecked, my man?"

The starving creature looked up from his food, and made an effort to
collect his thoughts--to exert his memory. It was not to be done. He
gave up the attempt in despair. His language, when he spoke, was as wild
as his looks.

"I can't tell you," he said. "I can't get the wash of the sea out of my
ears. I can't get the shining stars all night, and the burning sun all
day, out of my brain. When was I wrecked? When was I first adrift in the
boat? When did I get the tiller in my hand and fight against hunger and
sleep? When did the gnawing in my breast, and the burning in my head,
first begin? I have lost all reckoning of it. I can't think; I can't
sleep; I can't get the wash of the sea out of my ears. What are you
baiting me with questions for? Let me eat!"

Even the sailors pitied him. The sailors asked leave of their officer to
add a little drink to his meal.

"We've got a drop of grog with us, sir, in a bottle. May we give it to
him?"

"Certainly!"

He took the bottle fiercely, as he had taken the food, drank a little,
stopped, and considered with himself again. He held up the bottle to the
light, and, marking how much liquor it contained, carefully drank half
of it only. This done, he put the bottle in his wallet along with the
food.

"Are you saving it up for another time?" said Steventon.

"I'm saving it up," the man answered. "Never mind what for. That's my
secret."

He looked round the boat-house as he made that reply, and noticed Mrs.
Crayford for the first time.

"A woman among you!" he said. "Is she English? Is she young? Let me look
closer at her."

He advanced a few steps toward the table.