Argyle went on: ‘We’re also aware you wrote to the governor about certain…items that washed ashore here.’

‘Mm. I’d know of any such vessel landing on these shores. People come by, tell me what’s so. And it happens I’ve heard of none such.’

Having said these words, his face changed entirely. ‘Forgot my manners. Come away up. Need anything from the schooner?’ He glanced towards me. ‘Weather’s coming in.’

I shook my head, indicating the small bag I had brought from the Moonbird, and we set off along a foot track through the pale grasses, feet squeaking in the brilliant sand, until, in a hollow between low dunes and boulders, the house suddenly appeared. It was more ably constructed than I had first thought. Some of the timbers looked to have been harvested from the low shrubs of the island: others had a furred appearance from rolling in the sea. The sea would provide all Munro’s needs, save for water. Was there a clear line, then, that prohibited pilfering wrecks? Or causing them?

A door with a window set in it, a low sill that accommodated the short man but caused Argyle, and me, to stoop. More dogs about the doorway, half-a-dozen or more. Mongrels: large, stout, thin, mangy, a miscellany of God’s forgotten beasts. One carried a bone, high and proud like an heirloom. There was no fury in them, not like the dog at the beach: if we had come this far, we must be here by consent.

Inside the house, a single room, dimly lit.

The fine fronds of the tussock grass were laid all over the floor, making a rich scent like hay. Little eddies of feathers had collected in the corners of the room and adhered to some of the surfaces. There was a cot against one wall, a heavy dresser cluttered with shells and glass and a hearth with a low fire burning. Stains on the hessian that curtained the window indicated this was where they cast their scraps.

A large wooden table stood in the centre of the room. Upon it lay a fowling piece, broken open and gleaming black, cartridges, a powder f lask and a ramrod. I looked at Louisa, who had entered behind me, and she smiled sweetly. The inference was clear: if we’d brought trouble, we’d have been on the end of that gun.

Munro busied himself removing the gun and the ammunition from the table and swung a pot over the fire. He stood leaning against the stone of the chimney, his free hand on a hip.

‘Louisa here is also called Drummerrerlooner. The other three’s Mirnermanner, Pungerneetterlattener, and no one ken say it so we call er Sall, an then Tingnooterrer, what they call Tibb. So first two’s with Kelly and Thomas. Tibb’s stopping over from Woody.’