The skipper might have been about forty; the three others between twenty-five and thirty.

The youngest, whom they called Sylvestre or "Lurlu," was only seventeen, yet already a man for height and strength; a fine curly black beard covered his cheeks; still he had childlike eyes, bluish-grey in hue, and sweet and tender in expression.
Huddled against one another, for want of space, they seemed to feel downright comfort, snugly packed in their dark home.
Outside spread the ocean and night--the infinite solitude of dark fathomless waters.

A brass watch, hung on the wall, pointed to eleven o'clock--doubtless eleven at night--and upon the deck pattered the drizzling rain.
Among themselves, they treated these questions of marriage very merrily; but without saying anything indecent.

No, indeed, they only sketched plans for those who were still bachelors, or related funny stories happening at home at wedding-feasts.

Sometimes with a happy laugh they made some rather too free remarks about the fun in love-making.