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.