Already the sea-front was astir with the business of the new-born day. As he approached the principal store he descried the bulky figure of the proprietor upon the jetty, superintending the unloading of some cases from a boat lying alongside it. Pulling himself together he crossed the road and accosted him.
"Mr. Tugwell, I believe?" he began, raising his tattered cabbage-tree with a touch of his old politeness.
The merchant turned and looked him up and down.
"Yes, that is certainly my name. What can I do for you?"
"I am in search of employment. I thought perhaps you could help me."
"I don't seem to remember your face, somehow. You are a stranger in the island?"
"I only arrived yesterday. I am an Englishman. I don't want to whine, but I might add that I was once an English gentleman."
"Dear me! You look as if you had been making rough weather of it lately."
"Very. As a proof, I may tell you that I have not eaten a mouthful since I landed from my boat yesterday morning."
"What can you do? I am in want of an experienced hand to pack shell. Can you qualify?"