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spread it out to dry there,’ he said, as though I hadn’t done enough work for one day. ‘There are pegs in the bag tied to the lowest rope.’
    I was out of breath, my arms were aching and I was really hungry, but I wasn’t going to tell him so. Instead, I did as he said, pegging out my hated garments on the ropes. It wasn’t as easy a task as I’d expected, as they bunched and dragged on the ropes, threatening to tear again.
    But at last it was done, after a fashion. I sighed and dropped my weary arms to my sides. Will surveyed my handiwork.
    ‘Clumsy and untidy,’ he said blightingly. ‘If you were a servant, you’d be sacked.’
    ‘But I am not,’ I said. ‘Nor do I have any expectation of becoming one.’
    He regarded me enigmatically, as though about to speak, but then shrugged. ‘You’ve earned your dinner now,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll talk.’
    Over a bowl of savoury stew with dumplings, I listened to what he had to say. ‘I’ve been put in command of this action,’ he told me. ‘And that includes being in charge of you tomorrow. I don’t relish it, but you may as well make yourself useful.’
    ‘What action is this?’ I asked.
    ‘We’re going to an empty house,’ Will told me. ‘Everyone knows it’s haunted; that’s why it’s deserted and useful to our landing team as a hiding place. But, most inconveniently, the ghost hasn’t shown itself for several years now. People are starting to venture into the grounds again. People that include the local customs men. We’ve even heard rumours a buyer was looking at it; a buyer who is not a friend to the Gentlemen. We need to set that to rights.’
    I looked at him suspiciously, half-remembering Jacob’s speech the other night. ‘Just how shall we do that?’ I asked. ‘Find the ghost and persuade it to show itself?’
    ‘Don’t be stupid, Isabelle. There is no ghost. You and I do not believe in such apparitions. But many of the country folk do, and so we will give them a ghost.’
    It was the first time he’d acknowledged his own background. I wanted to question him, to ask about how he had ended up with a crew of smugglers, but his expression was forbidding, so I refrained.
    ‘Don’t tell me,’ I said instead, with a slight shiver. I wasn’t quite sure that I agreed with him about not believing in ghosts, although I wasn’t going to admit it. ‘The ghost was a girl who died in mysterious circumstances. And I am to be she.’
    ‘You have a certain quickness of understanding,’ Will conceded. ‘It makes up a little—a very little!—for your grave faults.’
    ‘I don’t admit that I have any faults.’
    ‘Of course you don’t. I doubt very much you even recognize them. It’s what makes you so unbearable,’ retorted Will indifferently.
    I was silenced. There was no doubt he meant what he said. Will was the only man aboard this ship who shared anything with me—background, education, class. And he hated me. I felt shame and humiliation creep into my cheeks and turned away to hide it.
    ‘Nice haircut, by the way,’ remarked Will.
    I put my hand up to touch my ragged hair and thought how much I hated him back.

CHAPTER FIVE

    The evening was moonless and overcast with rain misting in the autumn air. It was a complete contrast to the bright, sunny day that had preceded it. I shivered a little as I crouched in the damp rowing boat that was taking me and Will to the beach. I could make out the waves breaking on the sand ahead of us. Behind us The Invisible loomed, awaiting the return of the boat. I was looking forward to setting both feet on dry land again and had some secret hope of making an escape.
    Will shifted restlessly beside me. In his hands was a sack containing my gown, a length of chain, some rope, and a flask of liquid courage.
    The previous night, having sailed westwards up the channel, we’d lain off a dark and rocky stretch of coast. Two crew members had gone ashore to spread tales of ghosts ready for our