Tiny, faint and hard to place, I thought at first they were coming from the galley, where Argyle was making food for my father. I wondered about the cliffs of the island, the flat expanse of sea between them and us. About our own sounds refracting, coming back towards us, altered by the sentient rock.

Shortly after dark we each settled into our place. I was restless; sleep would not come. Nature called but, out of concern that the men would hear, I could not attend the tiny head that was installed at the ends of the bunks. So I took myself up onto the deck.

The moon was out, silver on the calm sea. Stars all around, a puff of small cloud here and there. The island stood silent: a huge dark mass before us. Below me, a lantern burned, even now, in the doctor’s cabin, although it must be well after midnight. I wondered briefly what he could be working on. What could please and intrigue a man so much that he would prefer it to the deepest rest of the night?

I took the second jib and arranged it around the small port in the gunwale where the boat access was, so that I had a screen, hitched my nightgown and lowered my backside into the gap. I could hear no other sound than the trickle falling on the sea far below: the only movement in the whole world. But once the stream had ended, silence fell heavily. Any sound now would have total dominion.

And so it was that a human voice cut the night.

A loud cry that was somewhere between distress and anger. Not calling to us, I thought. Perhaps raised in argument. It came, quite clearly, from the island. I looked that way and now I could see a pinpoint of orange light, flickering.

There were people on the island.

Argyle had insisted earlier that it was uninhabited. It had no flat ground, he said, no place for settlement. And besides, landing a boat there, transferring materials and supplies, would be nigh impossible. I sat very still now, and listened. It was several voices, not just one. All male.

No one would live here by choice. Either they were wrecked here and needed our help or they were to be avoided. We had posted no watch overnight: the sea was calm and we were safe at anchor. I would not wake the master to tell him this. The inhabitants of the island could wait for the morning, and so could we.

~

At dawn the men were busy on the deck. The smoke from the previous night’s fire was clearly visible, and it had been decided we would haul in close to examine its source.