When Yann was on deck, he looked around him with sleep-laden eyes,over the familiar circle of the sea. That night the illimitableimmensity showed itself in its most astonishingly simple aspects, inneutral tints, giving only the impression of depth. This horizon,which indicated no recognisable region of the earth, or even anygeological age, must have looked so many times the same since theorigin of time, that, gazing upon it, one saw nothing save theeternity of things that exist and cannot help existing.

　　It was not the dead of night, for a patch of light, which seemed toooze from no particular point, dimly lit up the scene. The wind sobbedas usual its aimless wail. All was gray, a fickle gray, which fadedbefore the fixed gaze. The sea, during its mysterious rest, hid itselfunder feeble tints without a name.

　　Above floated scattered clouds; they had assumed various shapes, for,without form, things cannot exist; in the darkness they had blendedtogether, so as to form one single vast veiling.

　　But in one particular spot of the sky, low down on the waters, theyseemed a dark-veined marble, the streaks clearly defined although verydistant; a tender drawing, as if traced by some dreamy hand--somechance effect, not meant to be viewed for long, and indeed hasteningto die away. Even that alone, in the midst of this broad grandeur,appeared to mean something; one might think that the sad, undefinedthought of the nothingness around was written there; and the sightinvoluntarily remained fixed upon it.

　　Yann's dazzled eyes grew accustomed to the outside darkness, and gazedmore and more steadily upon that veining in the sky; it had now takenthe shape of a kneeling figure with arms outstretched. He began tolook upon it as a human shadow rendered gigantic by the distanceitself.

　　In his mind, where his indefinite dreams and primitive beliefs stilllingered, the ominous shadow, crushed beneath the gloomy sky, slowlycoalesced with the thought of his dead brother, as if it were a lasttoken from him.

　　He was used to such strange associations of ideas, that thrive in theminds of children. But words, vague as they may be, are still tooprecise to express those feelings; one would need that uncertainlanguage that comes in dreams, of which upon awakening, one retainsmerely enigmatical, senseless fragments.

　　Looking upon the cloud, he felt a deep anguish, full of unknownmystery, that froze his very soul; he understood full well now thathis poor little brother would never more be seen; sorrow, which hadbeen some time penetrating the hard, rough rind of his heart, nowgushed in and brimmed it over. He beheld Sylvestre again with his softchildish eyes; at the thought of embracing him no more, a veil fellbetween his eyelids and his eyes, against his will; and, at first, hecould not rightly understand what it was--never having wept in all hismanhood. But the tears began to fall heavily and swiftly down hischeeks, and then sobs rent his deep chest.

　　He went on with his fishing, losing no time and speaking to no one,and his two mates, though hearing him in the deep silence, pretendednot to do so, for fear of irritating him, knowing him to be so haughtyand reserved.

　　In his opinion death was the end of it all. Out of respect he oftenjoined in the family prayers for the dead, but he believed in noafter-life of the soul. Between themselves, in their long talks, thesailors all said the same, in a blunt taken-for-granted way, as awell-known fact; but it did not stop them from believing in ghosts,having a vague fear of graveyards, and an unlimited confidence inprotecting saints and images, and above all a deep respect for theconsecrated earth around the churches.

　　So Yann himself feared to be swallowed up by the sea, as if it wouldannihilate............