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CHAPTER VI
AT FULL STEAM
At this cry the whole ship's crew hurried towards the harpooner--
commander, officers, masters, sailors, cabin boys; even the engineers
left their engines, and the stokers their furnaces.
The order to stop her had been given, and the frigate now simply went
on by her own momentum. The darkness was then profound, and, however good
the Canadian's eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see,
and what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break.
But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object
he pointed to. At two cables' length from the Abraham Lincoln,
on the starboard quarter, the sea seemed to be illuminated all over.
It was not a mere phosphoric phenomenon. The monster emerged some fathoms
from the water, and then threw out that very intense but mysterious
light mentioned in the report of several captains. This magnificent
irradiation must have been produced by an agent of great SHINING power.
The luminous part traced on the sea an immense oval, much elongated,
the centre of which condensed a burning heat, whose overpowering brilliancy
died out by successive gradations.
"It is only a massing of phosphoric particles," cried one of the officers.
"No, sir, certainly not," I replied. "That brightness is of an
essentially electrical nature. Besides, see, see! it moves;
it is moving forwards, backwards; it is darting towards us!"
A general cry arose from the frigate.
"Silence!" said the captain. "Up with the helm, reverse the engines."
The steam was shut off, and the Abraham Lincoln, beating to port,
described a semicircle.
"Right the helm, go ahead," cried the captain.
These orders were executed, and the frigate moved rapidly
from the burning light.
I was mistaken. She tried to sheer off, but the supernatural
animal approached with a velocity double her own.
We gasped for breath. Stupefaction more than fear made us dumb
and motionless. The animal gained on us, sporting with the waves.
It made the round of the frigate, which was then making fourteen knots,
and enveloped it with its electric rings like luminous dust.
Then it moved away two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent track,
like those volumes of steam that the express trains leave behind.
All at once from the dark line of the horizon whither it retired
to gain its momentum, the monster rushed suddenly towards the Abraham
Lincoln with alarming rapidity, stopped suddenly about twenty feet
from the hull, and died out--not diving under the water, for its
brilliancy did not abate--but suddenly, and as if the source of this
brilliant emanation was exhausted. Then it reappeared on the other
side of the vessel, as if it had turned and slid under the hull.
Any moment a collision might have occurred which would have been fatal
to us. However, I was astonished at the manoeuvres of the frigate.
She fled and did not attack.
On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression
of unaccountable astonishment.
"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable
being I have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my
frigate in the midst of this darkness. Besides, how attack
this unknown thing, how defend one's self from it?
Wait for daylight, and the scene will change."
"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?"
"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one."
"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a torpedo."
"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such
dreadful power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created.
That is why, sir, I must be on my guard."
The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep.
The Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity,
had moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part,
the narwhal, imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will,
and seemed decided not to leave the scene of the struggle.
Towards midnight, however, it disappeared, or, to use a more
appropriate term, it "died out" like a large glow-worm. Had it fled?
One could only fear, not hope it. But at seven minutes to one o'clock
in the morning a deafening whistling was heard, like that produced
by a body of water rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering
through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring of whales?"
"Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me
in two thousand dollars. If I can only approach within four harpoons'
length of it!"
"But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler
at your disposal?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That will be trifling with the lives of my men."
"And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Towards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared,
not less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea,
one heard distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail,
and even its panting breath. It seemed that, at the moment
that the enormous narwhal had come to take breath at the surface
of the water, the air was engulfed in its lungs, like the steam
in the vast cylinders of a machine of two thousand horse-power.
"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"
We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat.
The fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings.
The second lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons
to the distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets,
which inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals.
Ned Land contented himself with sharpening his harpoon--a terrible weapon
in his hands.
At six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer
of light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared.
At seven o'clock the day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea
fog obscured our view, and the best spy glasses could not pierce it.
That caused disappointment and anger.
I climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched
on the mast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily
on the waves, and its thick scrolls rose little by little.
The horizon grew wider and clearer at the same time.
Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned Land's voice was heard:
"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.
Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, a mile and a half
from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a yard above the waves.
Its tail, violently agitated, produced a considerable eddy.
Never did a tail beat the sea with such violence. An immense track,
of dazzling whiteness, marked the passage of the animal, and described
a long curve.
The frigate approached the cetacean. I examined it thoroughly.
The reports of the Shannon and of the Helvetia had rather
exaggerated its size, and I estimated its length at
only two hundred and fifty feet. As to its dimensions,
I could only conjecture them to be admirably proportioned.
While I watched this phenomenon, two jets of steam and water
were ejected from its vents, and rose to the height of 120 feet;
thus I ascertained its way of breathing. I concluded definitely
that it belonged to the vertebrate branch, class mammalia.
The crew waited impatiently for their chief's orders. The latter,
after having observed the animal attentively, called the engineer.
The engineer ran to him.
"Sir," said the commander, "you have steam up?"
"Yes, sir," answered the engineer.
"Well, make up your fires and put on all steam."
Three hurrahs greeted this order. The time for the struggle had arrived.
Some moments after, the two funnels of the frigate vomited torrents of
black smoke, and the bridge quaked under the trembling of the boilers.
The Abraham Lincoln, propelled by her wonderful screw,
went straight at the animal. The latter allowed it to come
within half a cable's length; then, as if disdaining to dive,
it took a little turn, and stopped a short distance off.
This pursuit lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour,
without the frigate gaining two yards on the cetacean.
It was quite evident that at that rate we should never come
up with it.
"Well, Mr. Land," asked the captain, "do you advise me to put
the boats out to sea?"
"No, sir," replied Ned Land; "because we shall not take that beast easily."
"What shall we do then?"
"Put on more steam if you can, sir. With your leave, I mean to post
myself under the bowsprit, and, if we get within harpooning distance,
I shall throw my harpoon."
"Go, Ned," said the captain. "Engineer, put on more pressure."
Ned Land went to his post. The fires were increased, the screw revolved
forty-three times a minute, and the steam poured out of the valves.
We heaved the log, and calculated that the Abraham Lincoln was going
at the rate of 18 1/2 miles an hour.
But the accursed animal swam at the same speed.
For a whole hour the frigate kept up this pace, without gaining six feet.
It was humiliating for one of the swiftest sailers in the American navy.
A stubborn anger seized the crew; the sailors abused the monster, who,
as before, disdained to answer them; the captain no longer contented himself
with twisting his beard--he gnawed it.
The engineer was called again.
"You have turned full steam on?"
"Yes, sir," replied the engineer.
The speed of the Abraham Lincoln increased. Its masts trembled
down to their stepping holes, and the clouds of smoke could hardly
find way out of the narrow funnels.
They heaved the log a second time.
"Well?" asked the captain of the man at the wheel.
"Nineteen miles and three-tenths, sir."
"Clap on more steam."
The engineer obeyed. The manometer showed ten degrees.
But the cetacean grew warm itself, no doubt; for without
straining itself, it made 19 3/10 miles.
What a pursuit! No, I cannot describe the emotion that vibrated through me.
Ned Land kept his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let us
gain upon it.--"We shall catch it! we shall catch it!" cried the Canadian.
But just as he was going to strike, the cetacean stole away with a rapidity
that could not be estimated at less than thirty miles an hour, and even during
our maximum of speed, it bullied the frigate, going round and round it.
A cry of fury broke from everyone!
At noon we were no further advanced than at eight o'clock in the morning.
The captain then decided to take more direct means.
"Ah!" said he, "that animal goes quicker than the Abraham Lincoln.
Very well! we will see whether it will escape these conical bullets.
Send your men to the forecastle, sir."
The forecastle gun was immediately loaded and slewed round.
But the shot passed some feet above the cetacean, which was half
a mile off.
"Another, more to the right," cried the commander, "and five
dollars to whoever will hit that infernal beast."
An old gunner with a grey beard--that I can see now--with steady
eye and grave face, went up to the gun and took a long aim.
A loud report was heard, with which were mingled the cheers
of the crew.
The bullet did its work; it hit the animal, and, sliding off
the rounded surface, was lost in two miles depth of sea.
The chase began again, and the captain, leaning towards me, said:
"I will pursue that beast till my frigate bursts up."
"Yes," answered I; "and you will be quite right to do it."
I wished the beast would exhaust itself, and not be insensible
to fatigue like a steam engine. But it was of no use.
Hours passed, without its showing any signs of exhaustion.
However, it must be said in praise of the Abraham Lincoln that she
struggled on indefatigably. I cannot reckon the distance she made
under three hundred miles during this unlucky day, November the 6th.
But night came on, and overshadowed the rough ocean.
Now I thought our expedition was at an end, and that we should
never again see the extraordinary animal. I was mistaken.
At ten minutes to eleven in the evening, the electric light
reappeared three miles to windward of the frigate, as pure,
as intense as during the preceding night.
The narwhal seemed motionless; perhaps, tired with its day's work,
it slept, letting itself float with the undulation of the waves.
Now was a chance of which the captain resolved to take advantage.
He gave his orders. The Abraham Lincoln kept up half steam,
and advanced cautiously so as not to awake its adversary.
It is no rare thing to meet in the middle of the ocean whales
so sound asleep that they can be successfully attacked,
and Ned Land had harpooned more than one during its sleep.
The Canadian went to take his place again under the bowsprit.
The frigate approached noiselessly, stopped at two cables'
lengths from the animal, and following its track.
No one breathed; a deep silence reigned on the bridge.
We were not a hundred feet from the burning focus, the light of
which increased and dazzled our eyes.
At this moment, leaning on the forecastle bulwark, I saw below me Ned
Land grappling the martingale in one hand, brandishing his terrible
harpoon in the other, scarcely twenty feet from the motionless animal.
Suddenly his arm straightened, and the harpoon was thrown; I heard
the sonorous stroke of the weapon, which seemed to have struck a hard body.
The electric light went out suddenly, and two enormous waterspouts
broke over the bridge of the frigate, rushing like a torrent from stem
to stern, overthrowing men, and breaking the lashings of the spars.
A fearful shock followed, and, thrown over the rail without having
time to stop myself, I fell into the sea.
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AN UNKNOWN SPECIES OF WHALE
This unexpected fall so stunned me that I have no
clear recollection of my sensations at the time.
I was at first drawn down to a depth of about twenty feet.
I am a good swimmer (though without pretending to rival
Byron or Edgar Poe, who were masters of the art),
and in that plunge I did not lose my presence of mind.
Two vigorous strokes brought me to the surface of the water.
My first care was to look for the frigate. Had the crew
seen me disappear? Had the Abraham Lincoln veered round?
Would the captain put out a boat? Might I hope to be saved?
The darkness was intense. I caught a glimpse of a black mass disappearing in
the east, its beacon lights dying out in the distance. It was the frigate!
I was lost.
"Help, help!" I shouted, swimming towards the Abraham Lincoln in desperation.
My clothes encumbered me; they seemed glued to my body,
and paralysed my movements.
I was sinking! I was suffocating!
"Help!"
This was my last cry. My mouth filled with water;
I struggled against being drawn down the abyss.
Suddenly my clothes were seized by a strong hand, and I
felt myself quickly drawn up to the surface of the sea;
and I heard, yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:
"If master would be so good as to lean on my shoulder,
master would swim with much greater ease."
I seized with one hand my faithful Conseil's arm.
"Is it you?" said I, "you?"
"Myself," answered Conseil; "and waiting master's orders."
"That shock threw you as well as me into the sea?"
"No; but, being in my master's service, I followed him."
The worthy fellow thought that was but natural.
"And the frigate?" I asked.
"The frigate?" replied Conseil, turning on his back;
"I think that master had better not count too much on her."
"You think so?"
"I say that, at the time I threw myself into the sea, I heard the men
at the wheel say, `The screw and the rudder are broken.'
"Broken?"
"Yes, broken by the monster's teeth. It is the only injury
the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But it is a bad look-out for us--
she no longer answers her helm."
"Then we are lost!"
"Perhaps so," calmly answered Conseil. "However, we have still several
hours before us, and one can do a good deal in some hours."
Conseil's imperturbable coolness set me up again.
I swam more vigorously; but, cramped by my clothes, which stuck
to me like a leaden weight, I felt great difficulty in bearing up.
Conseil saw this.
"Will master let me make a slit?" said he; and, slipping an open knife
under my clothes, he ripped them up from top to bottom very rapidly.
Then he cleverly slipped them off me, while I swam for both of us.
Then I did the same for Conseil, and we continued to swim near
to each other.
Nevertheless, our situation was no less terrible.
Perhaps our disappearance had not been noticed; and, if it
had been, the frigate could not tack, being without its helm.
Conseil argued on this supposition, and laid his plans accordingly.
This quiet boy was perfectly self-possessed. We then decided that,
as our only chance of safety was being picked up by the Abraham
Lincoln's boats, we ought to manage so as to wait for them
as long as possible. I resolved then to husband our strength,
so that both should not be exhausted at the same time;
and this is how we managed: while one of us lay on our back,
quite still, with arms crossed, and legs stretched out,
the other would swim and push the other on in front.
This towing business did not last more than ten minutes each;
and relieving each other thus, we could swim on for some hours,
perhaps till day-break. Poor chance! but hope is so firmly
rooted in the heart of man! Moreover, there were two of us.
Indeed I declare (though it may seem improbable)
if I sought to destroy all hope--if I wished to despair,
I could not.
The collision of the frigate with the cetacean had
occurred about eleven o'clock in the evening before.
I reckoned then we should have eight hours to swim before sunrise,
an operation quite practicable if we relieved each other.
The sea, very calm, was in our favour. Sometimes I tried
to pierce the intense darkness that was only dispelled
by the phosphorescence caused by our movements.
I watched the luminous waves that broke over my hand,
whose mirror-like surface was spotted with silvery rings.
One might have said that we were in a bath of quicksilver.
Near one o'clock in the morning, I was seized with dreadful fatigue.
My limbs stiffened under the strain of violent cramp. Conseil was
obliged to keep me up, and our preservation devolved on him alone.
I heard the poor boy pant; his breathing became short and hurried.
I found that he could not keep up much longer.
"Leave me! leave me!" I said to him.
"Leave my master? Never!" replied he. "I would drown first."
Just then the moon appeared through the fringes of a
thick cloud that the wind was driving to the east.
The surface of the sea glittered with its rays.
This kindly light reanimated us. My head got better again.
I looked at all points of the horizon. I saw the frigate!
She was five miles from us, and looked like a dark mass,
hardly discernible. But no boats!
I would have cried out. But what good would it have been at such a distance!
My swollen lips could utter no sounds. Conseil could articulate some words,
and I heard him repeat at intervals, "Help! help!"
Our movements were suspended for an instant; we listened.
It might be only a singing in the ear, but it seemed to me
as if a cry answered the cry from Conseil.
"Did you hear?" I murmured.
"Yes! Yes!"
And Conseil gave one more despairing cry.
This time there was no mistake! A human voice responded to ours!
Was it the voice of another unfortunate creature, abandoned in the middle
of the ocean, some other victim of the shock sustained by the vessel?
Or rather was it a boat from the frigate, that was hailing us in the darkness?
Conseil made a last effort, and, leaning on my shoulder, while I struck
out in a desperate effort, he raised himself half out of the water,
then fell back exhausted.
"What did you see?"
"I saw----" murmured he; "I saw--but do not talk--reserve all your strength!"
What had he seen? Then, I know not why, the thought
of the monster came into my head for the first time!
But that voice! The time is past for Jonahs to take refuge
in whales' bellies! However, Conseil was towing me again.
He raised his head sometimes, looked before us, and uttered a cry
of recognition, which was responded to by a voice that came nearer
and nearer. I scarcely heard it. My strength was exhausted;
my fingers stiffened; my hand afforded me support no longer;
my mouth, convulsively opening, filled with salt water.
Cold crept over me. I raised my head for the last time,
then I sank.
At this moment a hard body struck me. I clung to it:
then I felt that I was being drawn up, that I was brought to
the surface of the water, that my chest collapsed--I fainted.
It is certain that I soon came to, thanks to the vigorous rubbings
that I received. I half opened my eyes.
"Conseil!" I murmured.
"Does master call me?" asked Conseil.
Just then, by the waning light of the moon which was sinking
down to the horizon, I saw a face which was not Conseil's
and which I immediately recognised.
"Ned!" I cried.
"The same, sir, who is seeking his prize!" replied the Canadian.
"Were you thrown into the sea by the shock to the frigate?"
"Yes, Professor; but more fortunate than you, I was able to find
a footing almost directly upon a floating island."
"An island?"
"Or, more correctly speaking, on our gigantic narwhal."
"Explain yourself, Ned!"
"Only I soon found out why my harpoon had not entered its skin
and was blunted."
"Why, Ned, why?"
"Because, Professor, that beast is made of sheet iron."
The Canadian's last words produced a sudden revolution in my brain.
I wriggled myself quickly to the top of the being, or object,
half out of the water, which served us for a refuge. I kicked it.
It was evidently a hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance
that forms the bodies of the great marine mammalia. But this hard
body might be a bony covering, like that of the antediluvian animals;
and I should be free to class this monster among amphibious reptiles,
such as tortoises or alligators.
Well, no! the blackish back that supported me was smooth,
polished, without scales. The blow produced a metallic sound;
and, incredible though it may be, it seemed, I might say,
as if it was made of riveted plates.
There was no doubt about it! This monster, this natural
phenomenon that had puzzled the learned world, and over thrown
and misled the imagination of seamen of both hemispheres,
it must be owned was a still more astonishing phenomenon,
inasmuch as it was a simply human construction.
We had no time to lose, however. We were lying upon the back of a
sort of submarine boat, which appeared (as far as I could judge)
like a huge fish of steel. Ned Land's mind was made up on this point.
Conseil and I could only agree with him.
Just then a bubbling began at the back of this strange thing
(which was evidently propelled by a screw), and it began to move.
We had only just time to seize hold of the upper part,
which rose about seven feet out of the water, and happily its speed
was not great.
"As long as it sails horizontally," muttered Ned Land,
"I do not mind; but, if it takes a fancy to dive, I would
not give two straws for my life."
The Canadian might have said still less. It became really necessary to
communicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the machine.
I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or a manhole,
to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron rivets,
solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and uniform.
Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total darkness.
At last this long night passed. My indistinct remembrance
prevents my describing all the impressions it made.
I can only recall one circumstance. During some lulls of
the wind and sea, I fancied I heard several times vague sounds,
a sort of fugitive harmony produced by words of command.
What was, then, the mystery of this submarine craft,
of which the whole world vainly sought an explanation?
What kind of beings existed in this strange boat?
What mechanical agent caused its prodigious speed?
Daybreak appeared. The morning mists surrounded us,
but they soon cleared off. I was about to examine the hull,
which formed on deck a kind of horizontal platform, when I felt
it gradually sinking.
"Oh! confound it!" cried Ned Land, kicking the resounding plate.
"Open, you inhospitable rascals!"
Happily the sinking movement ceased. Suddenly a noise, like iron
works violently pushed aside, came from the interior of the boat.
One iron plate was moved, a man appeared, uttered an odd cry,
and disappeared immediately.
Some moments after, eight strong men, with masked faces, appeared noiselessly,
and drew us down into their formidable machine.
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MOBILIS IN MOBILI
This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with
the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. Whom had we to deal with?
No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their own way.
Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in darkness.
My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could distinguish nothing.
I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an iron ladder. Ned Land
and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me. At the bottom of the ladder,
a door opened, and shut after us immediately with a bang.
We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine.
All was black, and such a dense black that, after some minutes,
my eyes had not been able to discern even the faintest glimmer.
Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free
vent to his indignation.
"Confound it!" cried he, "here are people who come up to the
Scotch for hospitality. They only just miss being cannibals.
I should not be surprised at it, but I declare that they shall
not eat me without my protesting."
"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are not quite done for yet."
"Not quite," sharply replied the Canadian, "but pretty near,
at all events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie knife
I have still, and I can always see well enough to use it.
The first of these pirates who lays a hand on me----"
"Do not excite yourself, Ned," I said to the harpooner, "and do not compromise
us by useless violence. Who knows that they will not listen to us?
Let us rather try to find out where we are."
I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall,
made of plates bolted together. Then turning back I struck
against a wooden table, near which were ranged several stools.
The boards of this prison were concealed under a thick mat,
which deadened the noise of the feet. The bare walls
revealed no trace of window or door. Conseil, going round
the reverse way, met me, and we went back to the middle
of the cabin, which measured about twenty feet by ten.
As to its height, Ned Land, in spite of his own great height,
could not measure it.
Half an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,
when the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light.
Our prison was suddenly lighted, that is to say, it became filled
with a luminous matter, so strong that I could not bear it at first.
In its whiteness and intensity I recognised that electric light which played
round the submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence.
After shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this
luminous agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof
of the cabin.
"At last one can see," cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand,
stood on the defensive.
"Yes," said I; "but we are still in the dark about ourselves."
"Let master have patience," said the imperturbable Conseil.
The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely.
It only contained a table and five stools. The invisible
door might be hermetically sealed. No noise was heard.
All seemed dead in the interior of this boat. Did it move, did it
float on the surface of the ocean, or did it dive into its depths?
I could not guess.
A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.
One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,
strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache,
a quick penetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises
the population of Southern France.
The second stranger merits a more detailed description. I made out
his prevailing qualities directly: self-confidence--because his head
was well set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around with
cold assurance; calmness--for his skin, rather pale, showed his coolness
of blood; energy--evinced by the rapid contraction of his lofty brows;
and courage--because his deep breathing denoted great power of lungs.
Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age,
I could not say. He was tall, had a large forehead,
straight nose, a clearly cut mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine
taper hands, indicative of a highly nervous temperament.
This man was certainly the most admirable specimen I had ever met.
One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from each other,
and which could take in nearly a quarter of the horizon at once.
This faculty--(I verified it later)--gave him a range of vision far superior
to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his eyebrows met,
his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the range of his vision,
and he looked as if he magnified the objects lessened by distance, as if
he pierced those sheets of water so opaque to our eyes, and as if he read
the very depths of the seas.
The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter,
and shod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes
of a particular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs.
The taller of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us
with great attention, without saying a word; then, turning to
his companion, talked with him in an unknown tongue.
It was a sonorous, harmonious, and flexible dialect, the vowels
seeming to admit of very varied accentuation.
The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three perfectly
incomprehensible words. Then he seemed to question me by a look.
I replied in good French that I did not know his language;
but he seemed not to understand me, and my situation
became more embarrassing.
"If master were to tell our story," said Conseil, "perhaps these gentlemen
may understand some words."
I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly,
and without omitting one single detail. I announced our names and rank,
introducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil,
and master Ned Land, the harpooner.
The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly,
even politely, and with extreme attention; but nothing in
his countenance indicated that he had understood my story.
When I finished, he said not a word.
There remained one resource, to speak English.
Perhaps they would know this almost universal language.
I knew it--as well as the German language--well enough to read
it fluently, but not to speak it correctly. But, anyhow, we must
make ourselves understood.
"Go on in your turn," I said to the harpooner; "speak your best
Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I."
Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story.
To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made
himself more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did not stir.
They evidently understood neither the language of England
nor of France.
Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking resources,
I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said:
"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German."
But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent
of the narrator, the German language had no success.
At last, nonplussed, I tried to remember my first lessons,
and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but with no better success.
This last attempt being of no avail, the two strangers exchanged
some words in their unknown language, and retired.
The door shut.
"It is an infamous shame," cried Ned Land, who broke out for the
twentieth time. "We speak to those rogues in French, English, German,
and Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!"
"Calm yourself," I said to the impetuous Ned; "anger will do no good."
"But do you see, Professor," replied our irascible companion,
"that we shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?"
"Bah!" said Conseil, philosophically; "we can hold out some time yet."
"My friends," I said, "we must not despair. We have been worse
off than this. Do me the favour to wait a little before forming
an opinion upon the commander and crew of this boat."
"My opinion is formed," replied Ned Land, sharply. "They are rascals."
"Good! and from what country?"
"From the land of rogues!"
"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the world;
but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to determine.
Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain. However, I am
inclined to think that the commander and his companion were born in
low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. But I cannot decide by
their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks, Arabians, or Indians.
As to their language, it is quite incomprehensible."
"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil,
"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language."
As he said these words, the door opened. A steward entered.
He brought us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know.
I hastened to dress myself, and my companions followed my example.
During that time, the steward--dumb, perhaps deaf--had arranged the table,
and laid three plates.
"This is something like!" said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the angry harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat here?
Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beef steaks from seadogs."
"We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took
our places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people,
and, had it not been for the electric light which flooded us,
I could have fancied I was in the dining-room of the Adelphi
Hotel at Liverpool, or at the Grand Hotel in Paris.
I must say, however, that there was neither bread nor wine.
The water was fresh and clear, but it was water and did not suit
Ned Land's taste. Amongst the dishes which were brought to us,
I recognised several fish delicately dressed; but of some,
although excellent, I could give no opinion, neither could I tell
to what kingdom they belonged, whether animal or vegetable.
As to the dinner-service, it was elegant, and in perfect taste.
Each utensil--spoon, fork, knife, plate--had a letter engraved on it,
with a motto above it, of which this is an exact facsimile:
MOBILIS IN MOBILI N
The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person who commanded at the bottom of the seas.
Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food,
and I did likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate;
and it seemed evident that our hosts would not let us die of want.
However, everything has an end, everything passes away,
even the hunger of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours.
Our appetites satisfied, we felt overcome with sleep.
"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.
"So shall I," replied Ned Land.
My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet,
and were soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts
crowded my brain, too many insoluble questions pressed upon me,
too many fancies kept my eyes half open. Where were we?
What strange power carried us on? I felt--or rather fancied I felt--
the machine sinking down to the lowest beds of the sea.
Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these mysterious asylums
a world of unknown animals, amongst which this submarine boat seemed
to be of the same kind, living, moving, and formidable as they.
Then my brain grew calmer, my imagination wandered into
vague unconsciousness, and I soon fell into a deep sleep.
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NED LAND'S TEMPERS
How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,
for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first.
My companions had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.
Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed,
my mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell.
Nothing was changed inside. The prison was still a prison--
the prisoners, prisoners. However, the steward, during our sleep,
had cleared the table. I breathed with difficulty. The heavy air
seemed to oppress my lungs. Although the cell was large, we had
evidently consumed a great part of the oxygen that it contained.
Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained in more
than 176 pints of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a nearly
equal quantity of carbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.
It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubt
the whole in the submarine boat. That gave rise to a question in my mind.
How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed?
Would he obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen contained
in chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by caustic potash?
Or--a more convenient, economical, and consequently more probable alternative--
would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface of the water,
like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four hours the atmospheric provision?
In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to eke
out of this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was
refreshed by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline emanations.
It was an invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened my
mouth wide, and my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles.
At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated monster
had evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe,
after the fashion of whales. I found out from that the mode
of ventilating the boat.
When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe,
which conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.
Above the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh air
renewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.
I was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almost
at the same time, under the influence of this reviving air.
They rubbed their eyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feet
in an instant.
"Did master sleep well?" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.
"Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?"
"Soundly, Professor. But, I don't know if I am right or not,
there seems to be a sea breeze!"
A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had passed
during his sleep.
"Good!" said he. "That accounts for those roarings we heard,
when the supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln."
"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath."
"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is,
unless it is dinner-time."
"Dinner-time! my good fellow? Say rather breakfast-time, for we
certainly have begun another day."
"So," said Conseil, "we have slept twenty-four hours?"
"That is my opinion."
"I will not contradict you," replied Ned Land. "But, dinner or breakfast,
the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings."
"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I suppose
our appetites are in advance of the dinner hour."
"That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently.
"You are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanks
before grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!"
Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and this
time the steward did not appear. It was rather too long
to leave us, if they really had good intentions towards us.
Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of hunger, got still
more angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded an
explosion when he found himself with one of the crew.
For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,
but in vain. The walls were deaf. There was no sound to be heard
in the boat; all was still as death. It did not move, for I should have
felt the trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw.
Plunged in the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth:
this silence was dreadful.
I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.
Just then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the metal flags.
The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.
Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him down,
and held him by the throat. The steward was choking under the grip
of his powerful hand.
Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand from
his half-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue,
when suddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:
"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so good
as to listen to me?"
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THE MAN OF THE SEAS
It was the commander of the vessel who thus spoke.
At these words, Ned Land rose suddenly. The steward,
nearly strangled, tottered out on a sign from his master.
But such was the power of the commander on board, that not
a gesture betrayed the resentment which this man must have felt
towards the Canadian. Conseil interested in spite of himself,
I stupefied, awaited in silence the result of this scene.
The commander, leaning against the corner of a table with his arms folded,
scanned us with profound attention. Did he hesitate to speak?
Did he regret the words which he had just spoken in French?
One might almost think so.
After some moments of silence, which not one of us dreamed
of breaking, "Gentlemen," said he, in a calm and penetrating voice,
"I speak French, English, German, and Latin equally well.
I could, therefore, have answered you at our first interview, but I
wished to know you first, then to reflect. The story told by each one,
entirely agreeing in the main points, convinced me of your identity.
I know now that chance has brought before me M. Pierre Aronnax,
Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris, entrusted with
a scientific mission abroad, Conseil, his servant, and Ned Land,
of Canadian origin, harpooner on board the frigate Abraham Lincoln
of the navy of the United States of America."
I bowed assent. It was not a question that the commander put to me.
Therefore there was no answer to be made. This man expressed himself
with perfect ease, without any accent. His sentences were well turned,
his words clear, and his fluency of speech remarkable. Yet, I did not
recognise in him a fellow-countryman.
He continued the conversation in these terms:
"You have doubtless thought, sir, that I have delayed long in paying
you this second visit. The reason is that, your identity recognised,
I wished to weigh maturely what part to act towards you.
I have hesitated much. Most annoying circumstances have brought you
into the presence of a man who has broken all the ties of humanity.
You have come to trouble my existence."
"Unintentionally!" said I.
"Unintentionally?" replied the stranger, raising his voice a little.
"Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln pursued me all over
the seas? Was it unintentionally that you took passage in this frigate?
Was it unintentionally that your cannon-balls rebounded off the plating
of my vessel? Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land struck me
with his harpoon?"
I detected a restrained irritation in these words.
But to these recriminations I had a very natural answer to make,
and I made it.
"Sir," said I, "no doubt you are ignorant of the discussions
which have taken place concerning you in America and Europe.
You do not know that divers accidents, caused by collisions with your
submarine machine, have excited public feeling in the two continents.
I omit the theories without number by which it was sought
to explain that of which you alone possess the secret.
But you must understand that, in pursuing you over the high
seas of the Pacific, the Abraham Lincoln believed itself to be
chasing some powerful sea-monster, of which it was necessary
to rid the ocean at any price."
A half-smile curled the lips of the commander: then, in a calmer tone:
"M. Aronnax," he replied, "dare you affirm that your frigate
would not as soon have pursued and cannonaded a submarine boat
as a monster?"
This question embarrassed me, for certainly Captain Farragut might
not have hesitated. He might have thought it his duty to destroy
a contrivance of this kind, as he would a gigantic narwhal.
"You understand then, sir," continued the stranger, "that I
have the right to treat you as enemies?"
I answered nothing, purposely. For what good would it be to discuss
such a proposition, when force could destroy the best arguments?
"I have hesitated some time," continued the commander; "nothing obliged
me to show you hospitality. If I chose to separate myself from you,
I should have no interest in seeing you again; I could place you
upon the deck of this vessel which has served you as a refuge,
I could sink beneath the waters, and forget that you had ever existed.
Would not that be my right?"
"It might be the right of a savage," I answered, "but not
that of a civilised man."
"Professor," replied the commander, quickly, "I am not what you
call a civilised man! I have done with society entirely,
for reasons which I alone have the right of appreciating.
I do not, therefore, obey its laws, and I desire you never to allude
to them before me again!"
This was said plainly. A flash of anger and disdain kindled in the eyes of
the Unknown, and I had a glimpse of a terrible past in the life of this man.
Not only had he put himself beyond the pale of human laws, but he had made
himself independent of them, free in the strictest acceptation of the word,
quite beyond their reach! Who then would dare to pursue him at the bottom of
the sea, when, on its surface, he defied all attempts made against him?
What vessel could resist the shock of his submarine monitor?
What cuirass, however thick, could withstand the blows of his spur?
No man could demand from him an account of his actions;
God, if he believed in one--his conscience, if he had one--
were the sole judges to whom he was answerable.
These reflections crossed my mind rapidly, whilst the stranger
personage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped up in himself.
I regarded him with fear mingled with interest, as, doubtless,
OEdiphus regarded the Sphinx.
After rather a long silence, the commander resumed the conversation.
"I have hesitated," said he, "but I have thought that my interest might
be reconciled with that pity to which every human being has a right.
You will remain on board my vessel, since fate has cast you there.
You will be free; and, in exchange for this liberty, I shall only impose one
single condition. Your word of honour to submit to it will suffice."
"Speak, sir," I answered. "I suppose this condition is one which a man
of honour may accept?"
"Yes, sir; it is this: It is possible that certain events,
unforeseen, may oblige me to consign you to your cabins for some hours
or some days, as the case may be. As I desire never to use violence,
I expect from you, more than all the others, a passive obedience.
In thus acting, I take all the responsibility: I acquit you entirely,
for I make it an impossibility for you to see what ought not to be seen.
Do you accept this condition?"
Then things took place on board which, to say the least,
were singular, and which ought not to be seen by people
who were not placed beyond the pale of social laws.
Amongst the surprises which the future was preparing for me,
this might not be the least.
"We accept," I answered; "only I will ask your permission, sir, to address
one question to you--one only."
"Speak, sir."
"You said that we should be free on board."
"Entirely."
"I ask you, then, what you mean by this liberty?"
"Just the liberty to go, to come, to see, to observe even all
that passes here save under rare circumstances--the liberty,
in short, which we enjoy ourselves, my companions and I."
It was evident that we did not understand one another.
"Pardon me, sir," I resumed, "but this liberty is only what every
prisoner has of pacing his prison. It cannot suffice us."
"It must suffice you, however."
"What! we must renounce for ever seeing our country, our friends,
our relations again?"
"Yes, sir. But to renounce that unendurable worldly yoke which men
believe to be liberty is not perhaps so painful as you think."
"Well," exclaimed Ned Land, "never will I give my word of honour
not to try to escape."
"I did not ask you for your word of honour, Master Land,"
answered the commander, coldly.
"Sir," I replied, beginning to get angry in spite of my self,
"you abuse your situation towards us; it is cruelty."
"No, sir, it is clemency. You are my prisoners of war. I keep you,
when I could, by a word, plunge you into the depths of the ocean.
You attacked me. You came to surprise a secret which no man
in the world must penetrate--the secret of my whole existence.
And you think that I am going to send you back to that world which must
know me no more? Never! In retaining you, it is not you whom I guard--
it is myself."
These words indicated a resolution taken on the part of the commander,
against which no arguments would prevail.
"So, sir," I rejoined, "you give us simply the choice between life and death?"
"Simply."
"My friends," said I, "to a question thus put, there is nothing to answer.
But no word of honour binds us to the master of this vessel."
"None, sir," answered the Unknown.
Then, in a gentler tone, he continued:
"Now, permit me to finish what I have to say to you. I know you,
M. Aronnax. You and your companions will not, perhaps, have so much
to complain of in the chance which has bound you to my fate.
You will find amongst the books which are my favourite study the work
which you have published on `the depths of the sea.' I have often read it.
You have carried out your work as far as terrestrial science permitted you.
But you do not know all--you have not seen all. Let me tell you then,
Professor, that you will not regret the time passed on board my vessel.
You are going to visit the land of marvels."
These words of the commander had a great effect upon me. I cannot deny it.
My weak point was touched; and I forgot, for a moment, that the contemplation
of these sublime subjects was not worth the loss of liberty.
Besides, I trusted to the future to decide this grave question.
So I contented myself with saying:
"By what name ought I to address you?"
"Sir," replied the commander, "I am nothing to you but Captain Nemo;
and you and your companions are nothing to me but the passengers
of the Nautilus."
Captain Nemo called. A steward appeared. The captain gave him
his orders in that strange language which I did not understand.
Then, turning towards the Canadian and Conseil:
"A repast awaits you in your cabin," said he. "Be so good
as to follow this man.
"And now, M. Aronnax, our breakfast is ready. Permit me to lead the way."
"I am at your service, Captain."
I followed Captain Nemo; and as soon as I had passed through the door,
I found myself in a kind of passage lighted by electricity,
similar to the waist of a ship. After we had proceeded a dozen yards,
a second door opened before me.
I then entered a dining-room, decorated and furnished
in severe taste. High oaken sideboards, inlaid with ebony,
stood at the two extremities of the room, and upon their shelves
glittered china, porcelain, and glass of inestimable value.
The plate on the table sparkled in the rays which the luminous
ceiling shed around, while the light was tempered and softened
by exquisite paintings.
In the centre of the room was a table richly laid out.
Captain Nemo indicated the place I was to occupy.
The breakfast consisted of a certain number of dishes,
the contents of which were furnished by the sea alone;
and I was ignorant of the nature and mode of preparation
of some of them. I acknowledged that they were good, but they
had a peculiar flavour, which I easily became accustomed to.
These different aliments appeared to me to be rich in phosphorus,
and I thought they must have a marine origin.
Captain Nemo looked at me. I asked him no questions, but he guessed
my thoughts, and answered of his own accord the questions which I
was burning to address to him.
"The greater part of these dishes are unknown to you,"
he said to me. "However, you may partake of them without fear.
They are wholesome and nourishing. For a long time I have
renounced the food of the earth, and I am never ill now.
My crew, who are healthy, are fed on the same food."
"So," said I, "all these eatables are the produce of the sea?"
"Yes, Professor, the sea supplies all my wants. Sometimes I cast
my nets in tow, and I draw them in ready to break. Sometimes I
hunt in the midst of this element, which appears to be inaccessible
to man, and quarry the game which dwells in my submarine forests.
My flocks, like those of Neptune's old shepherds, graze fearlessly
in the immense prairies of the ocean. I have a vast property there,
which I cultivate myself, and which is always sown by the hand
of the Creator of all things."
"I can understand perfectly, sir, that your nets furnish excellent fish
for your table; I can understand also that you hunt aquatic game in your
submarine forests; but I cannot understand at all how a particle of meat,
no matter how small, can figure in your bill of fare."
"This, which you believe to be meat, Professor, is nothing else than
fillet of turtle. Here are also some dolphins' livers, which you
take to be ragout of pork. My cook is a clever fellow,
who excels in dressing these various products of the ocean.
Taste all these dishes. Here is a preserve of sea-cucumber,
which a Malay would declare to be unrivalled in the world;
here is a cream, of which the milk has been furnished by
the cetacea, and the sugar by the great fucus of the North Sea;
and, lastly, permit me to offer you some preserve of anemones,
which is equal to that of the most delicious fruits."
I tasted, more from curiosity than as a connoisseur, whilst Captain
Nemo enchanted me with his extraordinary stories.
"You like the sea, Captain?"
"Yes; I love it! The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths
of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy.
It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely,
for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only
the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence.
It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the `Living Infinite,'
as one of your poets has said. In fact, Professor, Nature manifests
herself in it by her three kingdoms--mineral, vegetable, and animal.
The sea is the vast reservoir of Nature. The globe began with sea,
so to speak; and who knows if it will not end with it?
In it is supreme tranquillity. The sea does not belong to despots.
Upon its surface men can still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one
another to pieces, and be carried away with terrestrial horrors.
But at thirty feet below its level, their reign ceases,
their influence is quenched, and their power disappears.
Ah! sir, live--live in the bosom of the waters!
There only is independence! There I recognise no masters!
There I am free!"
Captain Nemo suddenly became silent in the midst of
this enthusiasm, by which he was quite carried away.
For a few moments he paced up and down, much agitated.
Then he became more calm, regained his accustomed coldness
of expression, and turning towards me:
"Now, Professor," said he, "if you wish to go over the Nautilus,
I am at your service."
Captain Nemo rose. I followed him. A double door, contrived at the back
of the dining-room, opened, and I entered a room equal in dimensions
to that which I had just quitted.
It was a library. High pieces of furniture, of black violet
ebony inlaid with brass, supported upon their wide shelves
a great number of books uniformly bound. They followed the shape
of the room, terminating at the lower part in huge divans,
covered with brown leather, which were curved, to afford
the greatest comfort. Light movable desks, made to slide in
and out at will, allowed one to rest one's book while reading.
In the centre stood an immense table, covered with pamphlets,
amongst which were some newspapers, already of old date.
The electric light flooded everything; it was shed from four
unpolished globes half sunk in the volutes of the ceiling.
I looked with real admiration at this room, so ingeniously fitted up,
and I could scarcely believe my eyes.
"Captain Nemo," said I to my host, who had just thrown himself
on one of the divans, "this is a library which would do honour
to more than one of the continental palaces, and I am absolutely
astounded when I consider that it can follow you to the bottom
of the seas."
"Where could one find greater solitude or silence, Professor?"
replied Captain Nemo. "Did your study in the Museum afford you
such perfect quiet?"
"No, sir; and I must confess that it is a very poor one after yours.
You must have six or seven thousand volumes here."
"Twelve thousand, M. Aronnax. These are the only ties which bind
me to the earth. But I had done with the world on the day
when my Nautilus plunged for the first time beneath the waters.
That day I bought my last volumes, my last pamphlets, my last papers,
and from that time I wish to think that men no longer think or write.
These books, Professor, are at your service besides, and you can make use
of them freely."
I thanked Captain Nemo, and went up to the shelves of the library.
Works on science, morals, and literature abounded in every language;
but I did not see one single work on political economy; that subject
appeared to be strictly proscribed. Strange to say, all these books
were irregularly arranged, in whatever language they were written;
and this medley proved that the Captain of the Nautilus must have read
indiscriminately the books which he took up by chance.
"Sir," said I to the Captain, "I thank you for having placed
this library at my disposal. It contains treasures of science,
and I shall profit by them."
"This room is not only a library," said Captain Nemo,
"it is also a smoking-room."
"A smoking-room!" I cried. "Then one may smoke on board?"
"Certainly."
"Then, sir, I am forced to believe that you have kept up
a communication with Havannah."
"Not any," answered the Captain. "Accept this cigar,
M. Aronnax; and, though it does not come from Havannah,
you will be pleased with it, if you are a connoisseur."
I took the cigar which was offered me; its shape recalled
the London ones, but it seemed to be made of leaves of gold.
I lighted it at a little brazier, which was supported upon an
elegant bronze stem, and drew the first whiffs with the delight
of a lover of smoking who has not smoked for two days.
"It is excellent, but it is not tobacco."
"No!" answered the Captain, "this tobacco comes neither from Havannah
nor from the East. It is a kind of sea-weed, rich in nicotine,
with which the sea provides me, but somewhat sparingly."
At that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood opposite
to that by which I had entered the library, and I passed into
an immense drawing-room splendidly lighted.
It was a vast, four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide,
and fifteen high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with light arabesques,
shed a soft clear light over all the marvels accumulated in this museum.
For it was in fact a museum, in which an intelligent and prodigal hand
had gathered all the treasures of nature and art, with the artistic
confusion which distinguishes a painter's studio.
{several sentences are missing here in the omnibus edition}
Thirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated by bright drapery,
ornamented the walls, which were hung with tapestry of severe design.
I saw works of great value, the greater part of which I had admired in the
special collections of Europe, and in the exhibitions of paintings.
Some admirable statues in marble and bronze, after the finest antique models,
stood upon pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum.
Amazement, as the Captain of the Nautilus had predicted, had already
begun to take possession of me.
"Professor," said this strange man, "you must excuse the unceremonious
way in which I receive you, and the disorder of this room."
"Sir," I answered, "without seeking to know who you are,
I recognise in you an artist."
"An amateur, nothing more, sir. Formerly I loved to collect
these beautiful works created by the hand of man.
I sought them greedily, and ferreted them out indefatigably,
and I have been able to bring together some objects of great value.
These are my last souvenirs of that world which is dead to me.
In my eyes, your modern artists are already old; they have two or
three thousand years of existence; I confound them in my own mind.
Masters have no age."
{4 paragraphs seem to be missing from this omnibus text here they
have to do with musical composers, a piano, and a brief revery
on the part of Nemo}
Under elegant glass cases, fixed by copper rivets, were classed
and labelled the most precious productions of the sea
which had ever been presented to the eye of a naturalist.
My delight as a professor may be conceived.
{2 long paragraphs seem to be missing from this omnibus here}
Apart, in separate compartments, were spread out chaplets of pearls
of the greatest beauty, which reflected the electric light in little
sparks of fire; pink pearls, torn from the pinna-marina of the Red Sea;
green pearls, yellow, blue, and black pearls, the curious productions
of the divers molluscs of every ocean, and certain mussels of the water
courses of the North; lastly, several specimens of inestimable value.
Some of these pearls were larger than a pigeon's egg, and were worth millions.
{this para has been altered the last sentence reworded}
Therefore, to estimate the value of this collection was simply impossible.
Captain Nemo must have expended millions in the acquirement of these
various specimens, and I was thinking what source he could have drawn from,
to have been able thus to gratify his fancy for collecting, when I was
interrupted by these words:
"You are examining my shells, Professor? Unquestionably they must be
interesting to a naturalist; but for me they have a far greater charm,
for I have collected them all with my own hand, and there is not a sea
on the face of the globe which has escaped my researches."
"I can understand, Captain, the delight of wandering about in the midst
of such riches. You are one of those who have collected their
treasures themselves. No museum in Europe possesses such a collection
of the produce of the ocean. But if I exhaust all my admiration
upon it, I shall have none left for the vessel which carries it.
I do not wish to pry into your secrets: but I must confess
that this Nautilus, with the motive power which is confined in it,
the contrivances which enable it to be worked, the powerful agent
which propels it, all excite my curiosity to the highest pitch.
I see suspended on the walls of this room instruments of whose use
I am ignorant."
"You will find these same instruments in my own room, Professor,
where I shall have much pleasure in explaining their use to you.
But first come and inspect the cabin which is set apart for your own use.
You must see how you will be accommodated on board the Nautilus."
I followed Captain Nemo who, by one of the doors opening
from each panel of the drawing-room, regained the waist.
He conducted me towards the bow, and there I found, not a cabin,
but an elegant room, with a bed, dressing-table, and several other
pieces of excellent furniture.
I could only thank my host.
"Your room adjoins mine," said he, opening a door, "and mine
opens into the drawing-room that we have just quitted."
I entered the Captain's room: it had a severe, almost a monkish aspect.
A small iron bedstead, a table, some articles for the toilet; the whole
lighted by a skylight. No comforts, the strictest necessaries only.
Captain Nemo pointed to a seat.
"Be so good as to sit down," he said. I seated myself,
and he began thus:
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"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,
Part 1, Chapters 6-10"
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