Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea
eleven o’clock 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 call.
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 despairing 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
carapace, 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 overthrown and misled the
imagination of seamen of both hemispheres, it must be owned, 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
man-hole, 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.
CHAPTER VIII
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 of phormium, 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. A disciple of
Gratiolet or Engel would have read his face like an open book. 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