erything "advantageous to life"--as Shakespeare's exiles said upon
another island: everything from bacon and pickles to boots,
iron-mongery, and sun-bonnets. For twelve years the Commandant had
dealt with Mr. Tregaskis, paying whatever Mr. Tregaskis charged him,
and always in ready money. He knew, moreover, that Mr. Tregaskis gave
credit: and yet, after twelve years of ready-money dealing, he winced
as he saw himself entering the shop and proposing to open an account.
He foresaw himself inexorably driven to it. But he foresaw himself also
stammering out the suggestion with every sign of conscious rascality.
And, after all, was it honest to enter a shop and open an account with
one penny in pocket? Suppose that, next pay-day, no pay were
forthcoming!

He must approach Mr. Tregaskis: there was no help for it. Yet the
prospect pleased him so little that, as he walked down the hill to the
quay, he decided to put off the interview, and was almost running past
the shop (which had just been unshuttered) when Mr. Tregaskis himself
appeared, framed of a sudden in the upper and open half of his shop
doorway.

"Eh? Is it you, sir? Good morning!" he called.

"Good morning! And a fine morning, too, Mr. Tregaskis."

"After a night of marvels. You've heard about the liner, sir, out in
the Roads?... 'Tis all a mystery to me how she ever found her way in."

"I am putting off to learn the particulars. And, by the way, Mr.
Tregaskis"--the Commandant paused--"I intended to call in upon you on
my way back."

"Anything I can do for you, sir, and at any time," responded Mr.
Tregaskis. "I suppose, now," he added, "you'd take it as a liberty if I
was to ask for a seat in your boat?"

"Not in the least. There she is, waiting off the quay steps: so if you
have business on board, put on your hat, come along with me, and
welcome!"

"Thanking you kindly, sir. Which I was reckoning that--she being from
foreign parts and the Islands the first place she've touched at, I
might pick up a bravish order in the way of fresh milk and eggs, not to
mention that Job Clemow sold me half-a-hundredweight of plaice, with a
cod or two, that he took on the spiller yesterday."

"Come along, by all means," repeated the Commandant, moving off towards
the quay steps; and Tregaskis, having tucked his shop-apron around his
waist and run into the back passage for his billy-cock hat, hurried in
his wake.

Reuben Tregaskis--known throughout the Islands as The Bes