bosom of his shirt, and nodded his head towards the barrel, upon
which the eater laid down his biscuit, and, taking up the barrel,
drew the bung, and let a few drops of water trickle into the tin
dish. The man on the boulder drank every drop, then threw the
pannikin down on the sand, while his companion, who had exhausted
the contents of the barrel, looked wolfishly at him. The other,
however, did not take the slightest notice of his friend's lowering
looks, but began to eat a biscuit and look around him. There was a
strong contrast between these two waifs of the sea which the ocean
had just thrown up on the desolate coast. The man on the boulder was
a tall, slightly-built young fellow, apparently about thirty years
of age, with leonine masses of reddish-coloured hair, and a short,
stubbly beard of the same tint. His face, pale and attenuated by
famine, looked sharp and clever; and his eyes, forming a strong
contrast to his hair, were quite black, with thin, delicately-drawn
eyebrows above them. They scintillated with a peculiar light which,
though not offensive, yet gave anyone looking at him an
uncomfortable feeling of insecurity. The young man's hands, though
hardened and discoloured, were yet finely formed, while even the
coarse, heavy boots he wore could not disguise the delicacy of his
feet. He was dressed in a rough blue suit of clothes, all torn and
much stained by sea water, and his head was covered with a red cap
of wool-work which rested lightly on his tangled masses of hair.
After a time he tossed aside the biscuit he was eating, and looked
down at his companion with a cynical smile. The man at his feet was
a rough, heavy-looking fellow, squarely and massively built, with
black hair and a heavy beard of the same sombre hue. His hands were
long and sinewy; his feet--which were bare--large and ungainly: and
his whole appearance was that of a man in a low station of life. No
one could have told the colour of his eyes, for he looked