"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 its cannonade us at the bottom
of the sea?"

"Tell me, Ned," said I, "can you recognise 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 the vessel.

"No, sir," he replied; "I cannot tell what nation she belongs to,
for she shows no colours. But I can declare she is a man-of-war,
for a long pennant flutters from her main mast."

For a quarter of an hour we watched the ship which was steaming
towards 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, armoured, 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 mizzen-peak. The distance
prevented us from distinguishing the colours 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 my ear.

"What! they are firing at us!" I exclaimed.

"So please you, sir," said Ned, "they have recognised 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 recognised 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 recognised, 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 ricochetted, 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,


<< previous page | next page >>

Jump to page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 | 81 | 82 | 83 | 84 | 85 | 86 | 87 | 88 | 89 | 90 | 91 | 92 | 93 | 94 | 95 | 96 | 97 | 98 | 99 | 100 | 101 | 102 | 103 | 104 | 105 | 106 | 107 | 108 | 109 | 110 | 111 | 112 | 113 | 114 | 115 | 116 | 117 | 118 | 119 | 120 | 121 | 122 | 123 | 124 | 125 |