Part 2 - Chapter 21
The way of describing this unlooked-for scene, the history
of the patriot ship, told at first so coldly, and the emotion with which this strange man
pronounced the last words, the name of the Avenger, the significance of which could
not escape me, all impressed itself deeply on my mind. My eyes did not leave the captain;
who, with his hand stretched out to sea, was watching with a glowing eye the glorious
wreck. Perhaps I was never to know who he was, whence he came, or where he was going, but
I saw the man move, and apart from the savant. It was no common misanthropy which had shut
Captain Nemo and his companions within the Nautilus, but a hatred, either monstrous
or sublime, which time could never weaken. Did this hatred still seek for vengeance? The
future would soon teach me that. But the Nautilus was rising slowly to the surface
of the sea, and the form of the Avenger disappeared by degrees from my sight. Soon
a slight rolling told me that we were in the open air. At that moment a dull boom was
heard. I looked at the captain. He did not move.
"Captain?" said I.
He did not answer. I left him and mounted the platform.
Conseil and the Canadian were already there.
"Where did that sound come from?" I asked.
"It was a gunshot," replied Ned Land.
I looked in the direction of the vessel I had already
seen. It was nearing the Nautilus, and we could see that it was putting on steam.
It was within six miles of us.
"What is that ship, Ned?"
"By its rigging, and the height of its lower
masts," said the Canadian, "I bet she is a ship of war. May it reach us; and, if
necessary, sink this cursed Nautilus."
"Friend Ned," replied Conseil, "what harm
can it do to the Nautilus? Can it attack it beneath the waves? Can it cannonade us
at the bottom of the sea?"
"Tell me, Ned," said I, "can you recognize
what country she belongs to?"
The Canadian knitted his eyebrows, dropped his eyelids,
and screwed up the corners of his eyes, and for a few moments fixed a piercing look upon
"No, Sir," he replied; "I cannot tell what
nation she belongs to, for she shows no colors. But I can declare she is a man-of-war, for
a long pennant flutters from her mainmast."
For a quarter of an hour we watched the ship which was
steaming toward us. I could not however believe that she could see the Nautilus
from that distance; and still less, that she could know what this submarine engine was.
Soon the Canadian informed me that she was a large armored two-decker ram. A thick black
smoke was pouring from her two funnels. Her closely furled sails were stopped to her
yards. She hoisted no flag at her mizzenpeak. The distance prevented us from
distinguishing the colors of her pennant, which floated like a thin ribbon. She advanced
rapidly. If Captain Nemo allowed her to approach, there was a chance of salvation for us.
"Sir," said Ned Land, "if that vessel
passes within a mile of us, I shall throw myself into the sea, and I should advise you to
do the same."
I did not reply to the Canadian's suggestion, but
continued watching the ship. Whether English, French, American, or Russian, she would be
sure to take us in if we could only reach her. Presently a white smoke burst from the fore
part of the vessel; some seconds after the water, agitated by the fall of a heavy body,
splashed the stern of the Nautilus, and shortly afterwards a loud explosion struck
"What! they are firing at us!" I exclaimed.
"So please you, Sir," said Ned, "they have
recognized the unicorn, and they are firing at us."
"But," I exclaimed, "surely they can see
that there are men in the case?"
"It is, perhaps, because of that," replied Ned
Land, looking at me.
A whole flood of light burst upon my mind. Doubtless they
knew now how to believe the stories of the pretended monster. No doubt, on board the Abraham
Lincoln, when the Canadian struck it with the harpoon, Commander Farragut had
recognized in the supposed narwhal a submarine vessel, more dangerous than a supernatural
cetacean. Yes, it must have been so; and on every sea they were now seeking this engine of
destruction. Terrible indeed! if, as we supposed, Captain Nemo employed the Nautilus
in works of vengeance. On the night when we were imprisoned in that cell, in the midst of
the Indian Ocean, had he not attacked some vessel? The man buried in the coral cemetery,
had he not been a victim to the shock caused by the Nautilus? Yes, I repeat it, it
must be so. One part of the mysterious existence of Captain Nemo had been unveiled; and,
if his identity had not been recognized, at least, the nations united against him were no
longer hunting a chimerical creature, but a man who had vowed a deadly hatred against
them. All the formidable past rose before me. Instead of meeting friends on board the
approaching ship, we could only expect pitiless enemies. But the shot rattled about us.
Some of them struck the sea and ricocheted, losing themselves in the distance. But none
touched the Nautilus. The vessel was not more than three miles from us. In spite of
the serious cannonade, Captain Nemo did not appear on the platform; but, if one of the
conical projectiles had struck the shell of the Nautilus, it would have been fatal.
The Canadian then said, "Sir, we must do all we can to get out of this dilemma. Let
us signal them. They will then, perhaps, understand that we are honest folks."
Ned Land took his handkerchief to wave in the air; but he
had scarcely displayed it when he was struck down by an iron hand, and fell, in spite of
his great strength, upon the deck.
"Fool!" exclaimed the captain, "do you wish
to be pierced by the spur of the Nautilus before it is hurled at this vessel?"
Captain Nemo was terrible to hear; he was still more
terrible to see. His face was deadly pale, with a spasm at his heart. For an instant it
must have ceased to beat. His pupils were fearfully contracted. He did not speak,
he roared, as, with his body thrown forward he wrung the Canadian's shoulders. Then,
leaving him, and turning to the ship of war, whose shot was still raining around him, he
exclaimed, with a powerful voice, "Ah, ship of an accursed nation, you know who I am!
I do not want your colors to know you by! Look! and I will show you mine!"
And on the fore part of the platform Captain Nemo unfurled
a black flag, similar to the one he had placed at the South Pole. At that moment a shot
struck the shell of the Nautilus obliquely, without piercing it; and, rebounding
near the captain, was lost in the sea. He shrugged his shoulders; and addressing me, said
shortly, "Go down, you and your companions, go down!"
"Sir," I exclaimed, "are you going to
attack this vessel?"
"Sir, I am going to sink it."
"You will not do that?"
"I shall do it," he replied coldly. "And I
advise you not to judge me, Sir. Fate has shown you what you ought not to have seen. The
attack has begun; go down."
"What is this vessel?"
"You do not know? Very well! so much the better! Its
nationality to you, at least, will be a secret. Go down!"
We could but obey. About fifteen of the sailors surrounded
the captain, looking with implacable hatred at the vessel nearing them. One could feel
that the same desire of vengeance animated every soul. I went down at the moment another
projectile struck the Nautilus, and I heard the captain exclaim:
"Strike, mad vessel! Shower your useless shot! And
then, you will not escape the spur of the Nautilus. But it is not here that you
shall perish! I would not have your ruins mingle with those of the Avenger!"
I reached my room. The captain and his second had remained
on the platform. The screw was set in motion.
Part 2 - Chapter 22
The Last Words of Captain Nemo
The panels had closed on this dreadful vision, but light
had not returned to the saloon: all was silence and darkness within the Nautilus.
At wonderful speed, a hundred feet beneath the water, it was leaving this desolate spot.
Whither was it going? to the north or south? Where was the man flying to after such
dreadful retaliation? I had returned to my room, where Ned and Conseil had remained silent
enough. I felt an insurmountable horror for Captain Nemo. Whatever he had suffered at the
hands of these men, he had no right to punish thus. He had made me, if not an accomplice,
at least a witness of his vengeance. At eleven the electric light reappeared. I passed
into the saloon. It was deserted. I consulted the different instruments. The Nautilus
was flying northward at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, now on the surface, and now
thirty feet below it. On taking the bearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing the
mouth of the Manche, and that our course was hurrying us toward the northern seas at a
frightful speed. That night we had crossed two hundred leagues of the Atlantic. The
shadows fell, and the sea was covered with darkness until the rising of the moon. I went
to my room, but could not sleep. I was troubled with dreadful nightmare. The horrible
scene of destruction was continual before my eyes.
From that day, who could tell into what part of the North
Atlantic basin the Nautilus would take us? Still, with unaccountable speed. Still
in the midst of these northern fogs. Would it touch at Spitzbergen, or on the shores of
Nova Zembla? Should we explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Sea of Kara, the
Gulf of Obi, the Archipelago of Liarrov, and the unknown coast of Asia? I could not say. I
could no longer judge of the time that was passing. The clocks had been stopped on board.
It seemed, as in polar countries, that night and day no longer followed their regular
course. I felt myself being drawn into that strange region where the foundered imagination
of Edgar Poe roamed at will. Like the fabulous Gordon Pym, at every moment I expected to
see "that veiled human figure, of larger proportions than those of any inhabitant of
the earth, thrown across the cataract which defends the approach to the pole." I
estimated (though, perhaps, I may be mistaken),- I estimated this adventurous course of
the Nautilus to have lasted fifteen or twenty days. And I know not how much longer
it might have lasted, had it not been for the catastrophe which ended this voyage.
Of Captain Nemo I saw nothing whatever now, nor of his
second. Not a man of the crew was visible for an instant. The Nautilus was almost
incessantly under water. When we came to the surface to renew the air, the panels opened
and shut mechanically. There were no more marks on the planisphere. I knew not where we
were. And the, Canadian, too, his strength and patience at an end, appeared no more.
Conseil could not draw a word from him; and fearing that, in a dreadful fit of madness, he
might kill himself, watched him with constant devotion. One morning (what date it was I
could not say), I had fallen into a heavy sleep toward the early hours, a sleep both
painful and unhealthy, when I suddenly awoke. Ned Land was leaning over me, saying, in a
low voice, "We are going to fly."
I sat up.
"When shall we go?" I asked.
"Tomorrow night. All inspection on board the Nautilus
seems to have ceased. All appear to be stupefied. You will be ready, Sir?"
"Yes; where are we?"
"In sight of land. I took the reckoning this morning
in the fog- twenty miles to the east."
"What country is it?"
"I do not know; but whatever it is, we will take
"Yes, Ned, yes. We will fly tonight, even if the sea
should swallow us up."
"The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles
in that light boat of the Nautilus does not frighten me. Unknown to the crew, I
have been able to procure food and some bottles of water."
"I will follow you."
"But," continued the Canadian, "if I am
surprised, I will defend myself; I will force them to kill me."
"We will die together, friend Ned."
I had made up my mind to all. The Canadian left me. I
reached the platform, on which I could with difficulty support myself against the shock of
the waves. The sky was threatening; but, as land was in those thick brown shadows, we must
fly. I returned to the saloon, fearing and yet hoping to see Captain Nemo, wishing and yet
not wishing to see him. What could I have said to him? Could I hide the involuntary horror
with which he inspired me? No. It was better that I should not meet him face to face;
better to forget him. And yet how long seemed that day, the last that I should pass in the
Nautilus. I remained alone. Ned Land and Conseil avoided speaking, for fear of
betraying themselves. At six I dined, but I was not hungry; I forced myself to eat in
spite of my disgust, that I might not weaken myself. At half-past six Ned Land came to my
room, saying, "We shall not see each other again before our departure. At ten the
moon will not be risen. We will profit by the darkness. Come to the boat; Conseil and I
will wait for you."
The Canadian went out without giving me time to answer.
Wishing to verify the course of the Nautilus, I went to the saloon. We were running
N.N.E. at frightful speed, and more than fifty yards deep. I cast a last look on these
wonders of Nature, on the riches of art heaped up in this museum, upon the unrivaled
collection destined to perish at the bottom of the sea, with him who had formed it. I
wished to fix an indelible impression of it in my mind. I remained an hour thus, bathed in
the light of that luminous ceiling, and passing in review those treasures shining under
their glasses. Then I returned to my room.
I dressed in strong sea clothing. I collected notes,
placing them carefully about me. My heart beat loudly. I could not check its pulsations.
Certainly my trouble and agitation would have betrayed me to Captain Nemo's eyes. What was
he doing at this moment? I listened at the door of his room. I heard steps. Captain Nemo
was there. He had not gone to rest. At every moment I expected to see him appear and ask
me why I wished to fly. I was constantly on the alert. My imagination magnified
everything. The impression became at last so poignant, that I asked myself if it would not
be better to go to the captain's room, see him face to face, and brave him with look and
It was the inspiration of a madman; fortunately I resisted
the desire, and stretched myself on my bed to quiet my bodily agitation. My nerves were
somewhat calmer, but in my excited brain I saw over again all my existence on board the Nautilus;
every incident, either happy or unfortunate, which had happened since my disappearance
from the Abraham Lincoln- the submarine hunt, the Torres Straits, the savages of
Papua, the running ashore, the coral cemetery, the passage of Suez, the island of
Santorin, the Cretin diver, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, the iceberg, the South Pole, the
imprisonment in the ice, the fight among the poulps, the storm in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger,
and the horrible scene of the vessel sunk with all her crew. All these events passed
before my eyes like scenes in a drama. Then Captain Nemo seemed to grow enormously, his
features to assume superhuman proportions. He was no longer my equal, but a man of the
waters, the genie of the sea.
It was then half-past nine. I held my head between my
hands to keep it from bursting. I closed my eyes; I would not think any longer. There was
another half hour to wait, another half hour of a nightmare, which might drive me mad.
At that moment I heard the distant strains of the organ, a
sad harmony to an undefinable chaunt, the wail of a soul longing to break these earthly
bonds. I listened with every sense, scarcely breathing; plunged, like Captain Nemo, in
that musical ecstasy which was drawing him in spirit to the end of life.
Then a sudden thought terrified me. Captain Nemo had left
his room. He was in the saloon, which I must cross to fly. There I should meet him for the
last time. He would see me, perhaps speak to me. A gesture of his might destroy me, a
single word chain me on board.
But ten was about to strike. The moment had come for me to
leave my room, and join my companions.
I must not hesitate, even if Captain Nemo himself should
rise before me. I opened my door carefully; and even then, as it turned on its hinges, it
seemed to me to make a dreadful noise. Perhaps it only existed in my own imagination.
I crept along the dark stairs of the Nautilus,
stopping at each step to check the beating of my heart. I reached the door of the saloon,
and opened it gently. It was plunged in profound darkness. The strains of the organ
sounded faintly. Captain Nemo was there. He did not see me. In the full light I do not
think he would have noticed me, so entirely was he absorbed in the ecstasy.
I crept along the carpet, avoiding the slightest sound
which might betray my presence. I was at least five minutes reaching the door, at the
opposite side, opening into the library.
I was going to open it, when a sigh from Captain Nemo
nailed me to the spot. I knew that he was rising. I could even see him, for the light from
the library came through to the saloon. He came toward me silently, with his arms crossed,
gliding like a specter rather than walking. His breast was swelling with sobs; and I heard
him murmur these words (the last which ever struck my ear):
"Almighty God! enough! enough!"
Was it a confession of remorse which thus escaped from
this man's conscience?
In desperation, I rushed through the library, mounted the
central staircase, and following the upper flight reached the boat. I crept through the
opening, which had already admitted my two companions.
"Let us go! let us go!" I exclaimed.
"Directly!" replied the Canadian.
The orifice in the plates of the Nautilus was first
closed, and fastened down by means of a false key, with which Ned Land had provided
himself; the opening in the boat was also closed. The Canadian began to loosen the bolts
which still held us to the submarine boat.
Suddenly a noise within was heard. Voices were answering
each other loudly. What was the matter? Had they discovered our flight? I felt Ned Land
slipping a dagger into my hand.
"Yes," I murmured, "we know how to
The Canadian had stopped in his work. But one word many
times repeated, a dreadful word, revealed the cause of the agitation spreading on board
the Nautilus. It was not we the crew were looking after!
"The maelstrom! the maelstrom!" I exclaimed.
The maelstrom! Could a more dreadful word in a more
dreadful situation have sounded in our ears! We were then upon the dangerous coast of
Norway. Was the Nautilus being drawn into this gulf at the moment our boat was
going to leave its sides? We knew that at the tide the pent-up waters between the islands
of Ferroe and Loffod
Part 2 - Chapter 23
Thus ends the voyage under the seas. What passed during
that night- how the boat escaped from the eddies of the maelstrom- how Ned Land, Conseil,
and myself ever came out of the gulf, I cannot tell.
But when I returned to consciousness, I was lying in a
fisherman's hut, on the Loffoden Isles. My two companions, safe and sound, were near me
holding my hands. We embraced each other heartily.
At that moment we could not think of returning to France.
The means of communication between the north of Norway and the south are rare. And I am
therefore obliged to wait for the steamboat running monthly from Cape North.
And among the worthy people who have so kindly received
us, I revise my record of these adventures once more. Not a fact has been omitted, not a
detail exaggerated. It is a faithful narrative of this incredible expedition in an element
inaccessible to man, but to which Progress will one day open a road.
Shall I be believed? I do not know. And it matters little,
after all. What I now affirm is, that I have a right to speak of these seas, under which,
in less than ten months, I have crossed 20,000 leagues in that submarine tour of the
world, which has revealed so many wonders.
But what has become of the Nautilus? Did it resist
the pressure of the maelstrom? Does Captain Nemo still live? And does he still follow
under the ocean those frightful retaliations? Or, did he stop after that last hecatomb?
Will the waves one day carry to him this manuscript
containing the history of his life? Shall I ever know the name of this man? Will the
missing vessel tell us by its nationality that of Captain Nemo?
I hope so. And I also hope that his powerful vessel has
conquered the sea at its most terrible gulf, and that the Nautilus has survived
where so many other vessels have been lost! If it be so- if Captain Nemo still inhabits
the ocean, his adopted country, may hatred be appeased in that savage heart! May the
contemplation of so many wonders extinguish forever the spirit of vengeance! May the judge
disappear, and the philosopher continue the peaceful exploration of the sea! If his
destiny be strange, it is also sublime. Have I not understood it myself? Have I not lived
ten months of this unnatural life? And to the question asked by Ecclesiastes 3,000 years
ago, "That which is far off and exceeding deep, who can find it out?" two men
alone of all now living have the right to give an answer -
CAPTAIN NEMO AND MYSELF.