"Which is real?" he asked, placing his foot upon the dog's shadow, "this or this?" and he put his hand upon the dog.
Julia, who found a necessity to humour him, answered:
"Some great thinker has written, 'Shadows we are, and shadows we pursue.'"
"How long grows one's shadow in the dying sun!" said Captain Layard, turning his face—filled with the yearning of grief and charged with that subtle expression of madness for which no words are to be found—toward the burning sky; "and soon we are nothing but shadows. Do you believe in God?" He looked at her suddenly with an extraordinary gaze of passionate anxiety.
"Oh, yes, Captain Layard," replied the girl. "I believe in him now if ever I did, and I have thanked him."
His face put on its triumphant look, but he was interrupted in the irrelevant sentiments he was about to deliver by the approach of the boatswain.
Julia crossed the deck to Hardy, glad to escape the pain of such talk.
"What is it?" said the captain.
"The men we picked up," answered the boatswain, "have asked me to come aft to say they're willing to serve as seamen aboard this ship."
"You are a full company," replied the captain, quickly. "I can't afford to pay and keep more sailors."