He stopped abruptly, and the eyes of the two men met in a single glance of comprehension.

“Joan?” Maloney exclaimed, under his breath.

“Joan!” replied John Silence.

We all went to bed early. The day had been unusually warm, and after sunset a curious hush descended on the island. Nothing was audible but that faint, ghostly singing which is inseparable from a pinewood even on the stillest day⁠—a low, searching sound, as though the wind had hair and trailed it o’er the world.

With the sudden cooling of the atmosphere a sea fog began to form. It appeared in isolated patches over the water, and then these patches slid together and a white wall advanced upon us. Not a breath of air stirred; the firs stood like flat metal outlines; the sea became as oil. The whole scene lay as though held motionless by some huge weight in the air; and the flames from our fire⁠—the largest we had ever made⁠—rose upwards, straight as a church steeple.