In his frantic running, Lawrence couldn't help but look back toward the direction from which Martha's voice had come.
However, besides the thick fog that didn't dissipate on Dagger Island, he saw nothing—the voice seemed as though it had risen directly in his mind, urging him repeatedly to leave the island, to return to the Homeloss, to leave this place, to go to Frost.
Martha certainly wasn't here.
But Lawrence still believed this was some kind of guidance—perhaps from his faith, perhaps from his subconscious, where unnoticed clues and intuition were guiding him, guiding him to a way out of this predicament.
He sprinted toward the harbor as the piercing wind and fog hit his face, whooshing past his ears while his first mate and sailors surrounded him, and the continuous booming of cannon fire could still be heard from a distance, including the firing from Homeloss' light escort guns—the Homeloss's retaliation against the "enemy's" attacks seemed weak, clearly at a disadvantage.