And the narrative, in spite of Jack’s poor grammar and the challenge of his handwriting, made for some fascinating reading.

So much so, that when I turned a page expecting to find more of the description of a riot that had happened just this spring at celebrations for King George’s birthday, and instead found that the sentence I’d been reading simply ended there, with blankness after, I was disappointed.

Flipping ahead to make sure there was nothing more, I closed the book regretfully. Oh, well, I thought. At least I had the finished version waiting for me in the present day. I’d have to be content with that.

I was starting to swing myself out of the hammock when the Sally lifted suddenly and rocked as though a wave had struck her broadside. As the hammock swung me back again I gripped it with my free hand, though in truth there was no danger I’d fall out. It was, as everyone had promised me, completely safe.

But that safety felt relative, now.

The Sally rolled a second time as something blotted out the daylight from the windows at the stern, behind me. Still clinging tightly to the hammock I turned round to see another ship’s hull sliding ominously past, so close that I could see the gilded scrolls of woodwork on her gun ports.

The sight brought me out of the hammock in one swift decided move, planting my feet on the unsteady floor while I tried not to panic.

I couldn’t see anything out the stern windows except the dark rise of the black-painted ship and one narrow slice of the grey sea and mist-shrouded shoreline that seemed too far off now to be any help, and I felt a new sense of frustration with Daniel and Fergal for leaving me here.

I’d be safer here, would I?

It didn’t appear so. The unknown ship had started a slow turn that brought her bow around to face the offshore winds. I watched her black stern swinging out away from ours until the two ships rested almost parallel to one another with the hard slap of the waves against the Sally’s hull the only sound of protest.

I’d expected some reaction from the three men left on board with me, but so far I’d heard nothing, not so much as one stray footfall on the upper deck. Maybe, I thought, my three would-be protectors had slipped into hiding – something they wouldn’t have done unless there was a reason to hide.

I knew that I was speculating; knew I had no way to tell if this new ship was friend or foe, but the mere sight of that black hull sliding past with all its gunports standing open, and this strange, unsettled silence that now hovered over everything inclined me to believe the worst.

Hiding wasn’t exactly an option for me – I didn’t know the Sally well enough to know where I’d be safe. At least here in the captain’s cabin I had that strong bolted door between me and whatever came. And more, I had the pistol.

It had slipped my mind initially, but now I crossed to take it from its drawer again with hands that weren’t quite steady.

I had barely closed the drawer again when I heard the quiet splash of oars approaching, almost furtive … heard the creak as they were lifted, and the scrape and bump of something on the Sally’s starboard side.

Gripping the pistol I closed my eyes briefly, preparing myself for the obvious since there was no way to stop it.

The Sally was going to be boarded.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Not knowing, not seeing, just hearing the sounds of the men coming over the sides was the worst part by far. I’d seen too many pirate movies and my mind was freely fitting images to what I heard above me, matching every shuffling step to some crazed killer carrying a cutlass in his hand.

So when I heard the first thump of a man’s boots coming down the stairs, I had the pistol waiting, cocked the way Fergal had shown me. As the boots approached I raised the pistol higher, and when the handle of the cabin door first gave a rattle I prepared to fire.

But then the intruder did something I hadn’t expected.

He knocked.

And Daniel’s voice said, ‘Eva? Let me in.’

The rush of relief was so great that it set loose a wave of adrenaline that made my fingers fumble on the bolt until I concentrated.

Daniel looked surprised to see the gun. ‘Are you all right?’ He swung the door shut firmly at his back. ‘Has something happened?’

I kept my voice low, so the crew wouldn’t hear. ‘There’s a ship.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Relaxing, he reached out to take the pistol from my hand. He let the hammer down with care. ‘There is no need for you to worry. Did you think that I would leave you so defenceless?’

I was on the brink of saying that I hadn’t thought he’d leave me in the first place, but I caught the words in time before I spoke them. It was not his fault, I knew, that social customs were the way they were; that men and women here were bound by different rules. And if I was feeling left out, I had no one but myself to blame. I’d asked to come along.

I said, ‘I just thought I should be prepared for anything.’ And then, because he didn’t look entirely convinced, I changed the subject while he put the pistol in its drawer. ‘Did you get all your business done on shore?’

‘We did. And bought ourselves a boat into the bargain, to replace the one that Creed’s boy rowed away in, else we’d find it a damp walk between our mooring and the beach when we got home.’

The tramping of men up and down between decks let me know that whatever they had traded for the wool was now being unloaded and stored in the Sally’s deep hold. Soon the great creaking winch would start hauling the anchor up. So much, I thought, for my grand sea adventure. In no time at all we’d be finished and back at Trelowarth.