Marguerite wakes on the island in damp mist. As the day clears, the trio establishes routines: Auguste hunts birds with his gun and brings back eggs in Damienne's sewing basket; Damienne ingeniously preserves meat by salting it with scrapings from their dried fish, brews seagrass soup, launders clothes, and organizes their settlement into named spaces—kitchen, chamber, privy. She insists they maintain decency and refuses to let the highborn Marguerite sweep or do menial labor, keeping the featherbed, books, and instruments packed away as belonging to civilized life.

Auguste constructs a calendar starting June 23rd so they can keep the Lord's Day, recognizing that Damienne's prayers and ritual matter for their morale and possible rescue. Marguerite, restless and eager to contribute, insists on planting a garden despite Damienne's warning that the soil is too thin. She and Auguste clear ground; Damienne reluctantly teaches her to sow. They plant wheat, oats, barley, lettuces, beans, radishes, and beets. Marguerite waters obsessively and rejoices when shoots emerge with astonishing speed.

The July sun, however, scorches her crops. Within three weeks of sprouting, the beans, greens, and roots wither and blow away. Marguerite collapses in grief, lashing out at Damienne, who responds with bitter "I warned you." That night, Marguerite confesses to Auguste that she does not believe prayers are answered—she cannot believe what she does not understand. Auguste does not rebuke her but urges her to judge by what she sees and feels, kissing her.

Their conversation turns to Roberval. Marguerite and Auguste recognize that their captor punished them with exactly what they desired—time, space, privacy—calculating that isolation would turn them against each other. They resolve to resist this design. When Marguerite calls the place wilderness and Roberval's punishment, Auguste insists the island is theirs to interpret: "it is not wilderness but our own country, and Roberval has nothing more to do with it."