This terrible scene of the 20th of April none of us can ever forget.
Ihave written it under the influence of violent emotion.Since then Ihave revised the recital;Ihave read it to Conseil and to the Canadian.
They found it exact as to facts,but insufficient as to effect.
To paint such pictures,one must have the pen of the most illustrious of our poets,the author of The Toilers of the Deep.
Ihave said that Captain Nemo wept while watching the waves;his grief was great.It was the second companion he had lost since our arrival on board,and what a death!
That friend,crushed,stifled,bruised by the dreadful arms of a poulp,pounded by his iron jaws,would not rest with his comrades in the peaceful coral cemetery!
In the midst of the struggle,it was the despairing cry uttered by the unfortunate man that had torn my heart.
The poor Frenchman,forgetting his conventional language,had taken to his own mother tongue,to utter a last appeal!
Amongst the crew of the Nautilus,associated with the body and soul of the Captain,recoiling like him from all contact with men,Ihad a fellow-countryman.Did he alone represent France in this mysterious association,evidently composed of individuals of divers nationalities?
It was one of these insoluble problems that rose up unceasingly before my mind!
Captain Nemo entered his room,and Isaw him no more for some time.
But that he was sad and irresolute Icould see by the vessel,of which he was the soul,and which received all his impressions.
The Nautilus did not keep on in its settled course;it floated about like a corpse at the will of the waves.It went at random.
He could not tear himself away from the scene of the last struggle,from this sea that had devoured one of his men.Ten days passed thus.
It was not till the 1st of May that the Nautilus resumed its northerly course,after having sighted the Bahamas at the mouth of the Bahama Canal.
We were then following the current from the largest river to the sea,that has its banks,its fish,and its proper temperatures.Imean the Gulf Stream.It is really a river,that flows freely to the middle of the Atlantic,and whose waters do not mix with the ocean waters.
It is a salt river,salter than the surrounding sea.Its mean depth is 1,500fathoms,its mean breadth ten miles.In certain places the current flows with the speed of two miles and a half an hour.The body of its waters is more considerable than that of all the rivers in the globe.
It was on this ocean river that the Nautilus then sailed.
Imust add that,during the night,the phosphorescent waters of the Gulf Stream rivalled the electric power of our watch-light,especially in the stormy weather that threatened us so frequently.
May 8th,we were still crossing Cape Hatteras,at the height of the North Caroline.The width of the Gulf Stream there is seventy-five miles,and its depth 210yards.The Nautilus still went at random;all supervision seemed abandoned.
Ithought that,under these circumstances,escape would be possible.
Indeed,the inhabited shores offered anywhere an easy refuge.
The sea was incessantly ploughed by the steamers that ply between New York or Boston and the Gulf of Mexico,and overrun day and night by the little schooners coasting about the several parts of the American coast.We could hope to be picked up.
It was a favourable opportunity,notwithstanding the thirty miles that separated the Nautilus from the coasts of the Union.
One unfortunate circumstance thwarted the Canadian's plans.
The weather was very bad.We were nearing those shores where tempests are so frequent,that country of waterspouts and cyclones actually engendered by the current of the Gulf Stream.
To tempt the sea in a frail boat was certain destruction.Ned Land owned this himself.He fretted,seized with nostalgia that flight only could cure.
"Master,"he said that day to me,"this must come to an end.Imust make a clean breast of it.This Nemo is leaving land and going up to the north.
But Ideclare to you that Ihave had enough of the South Pole,and Iwill not follow him to the North.""What is to be done,Ned,since flight is impracticable just now?""We must speak to the Captain,"said he;"you said nothing when we were in your native seas.Iwill speak,now we are in mine.
When Ithink that before long the Nautilus will be by Nova Scotia,and that there near New foundland is a large bay,and into that bay the St.Lawrence empties itself,and that the St.Lawrence is my river,the river by Quebec,my native town--when Ithink of this,Ifeel furious,it makes my hair stand on end.Sir,Iwould rather throw myself into the sea!Iwill not stay here!
Iam stifled!"
The Canadian was evidently losing all patience.
His vigorous nature could not stand this prolonged imprisonment.
His face altered daily;his temper became more surly.Iknew what he must suffer,for Iwas seized with home-sickness myself.
Nearly seven months had passed without our having had any news from land;Captain Nemo's isolation,his altered spirits,especially since the fight with the poulps,his taciturnity,all made me view things in a different light.
"Well,sir?"said Ned,seeing Idid not reply.
"Well,Ned,do you wish me to ask Captain Nemo his intentions concerning us?""Yes,sir."
"Although he has already made them known?""Yes;Iwish it settled finally.Speak for me,in my name only,if you like.""But Iso seldom meet him.He avoids me.""That is all the more reason for you to go to see him."Iwent to my room.From thence Imeant to go to Captain Nemo's.
It would not do to let this opportunity of meeting him slip.
Iknocked at the door.No answer.Iknocked again,then turned the handle.The door opened,Iwent in.The Captain was there.
Bending over his work-table,he had not heard me.
Resolved not to go without having spoken,Iapproached him.
He raised his head quickly,frowned,and said roughly,"You here!
What do you want?"
"To speak to you,Captain."
