Between him and that point lay a sloping expanse of rough land, never cultivated since creation, whereon there were vast masses of rock and boulder but no sign of human life.

No curling column of smoke went up from hut or cottage; his ears caught neither the bleating of sheep nor the cry of shepherd--all was still as only such places can be still.

Nor could he perceive any signs of life on the adjacent islands--which, to be sure, were not very near.

From the sea mists which wrapped one of them he saw projecting the cap of a mountainous hill--that hill he recognized as being on one of the principal islands of the group, and he then knew that he and his companions had been set down on one of the outlying islands which, from its position, was not in the immediate way of passing vessels nor likely to be visited by fishermen.
He was turning away from the top of the cliff after a long and careful inspection, when he caught sight of a man's figure crossing the rocky slope between him and this far-off point.

That, he said to himself, was Chatfield.