The year 1866 was marked by a bizarre development, an unexplained phenomenon that surely no one has forgotten. It must be said that professional seamen were especially alarmed. Traders, shipowners, captains of vessels, skippers, and master mariners from Europe and America, naval officers from every country, and the various national governments on these two continents, were all extremely disturbed by the business.

What happened? Several ships had encountered “an enormous thing” at sea, a long spindle-shaped object, sometimes giving off a phosphorescent glow, infinitely bigger and faster than any whale.

The relevant data on this apparition agreed pretty closely as to the structure of the object or creature in question, its unprecedented speed of movement, its startling locomotive power, and its unique vitality. No naturalists would have accepted the existence of such a monster sight unseen—specifically, unseen by their own scientific eyes.

On July 20, 1866, the steamer Governor Higginson[1] encountered this moving mass five miles off the eastern shores of Australia. Captain Baker[2] at first thought he was in the presence of an unknown reef; but two waterspouts shot out of this inexplicable object and sprang hissing into the air some 150 feet. Similar events were likewise observed in the Pacific seas[3], on July 23 of the same year, by the Christopher Columbus[4]. Both ships had observed the object at two places separated by a distance of more than 700 nautical leagues[5].

Fifteen days later and 2,000 leagues farther, the Helvetia[6], running between the United States and Europe, had seen the monster in latitude 42 degrees 15’ north and longitude 60 degrees 35’ west of Greenwich.

One after another, reports arrived that profoundly affected public opinion. In lighthearted countries, people joked about this phenomenon, but such serious, practical countries as England, America, and Germany were deeply concerned. In every big city they sang about the monster in the coffee houses, they ridiculed it in the newspapers, they dramatized it in the theaters. They even reprinted reports fromancient times: the views of Aristotle and Pliny[7] accepting the existence of such monsters, and so on.

During the first months of the year 1867, the question seemed to be buried, when new facts were brought to the public’s attention. But now it was no longer an issue of a scientific problem to be solved, but a quite real and serious danger to be avoided. The question took an entirely new turn. The monster again became an islet, rock, or reef, but a runaway reef, unfixed and elusive.

On March 5, 1867, the Moravia[8] met a rock marked on no charts. This accident happened around five o’clock in the morning. The officers examined the ocean with the most scrupulous care. They saw nothing, and the Moravia continued on course apparently undamaged. What was it? They were unable to say.

Three weeks later the accident had been reenacted under identical conditions. At 4:17 in the afternoon, when the passengers of the Scotia[9] gathered in the main lounge, a collision occurred. At first the passengers were quite frightened, but their Captain hastened to reassure them. There was no immediate danger.

Later the engineers proceeded to inspect the ship, which had been put in dry dock. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Two and a half meters below its waterline, there gaped a symmetrical gash in the shape of an isosceles triangle! This breach in the sheet iron was perfectly formed. It was truly inexplicable.

From this moment on, any maritime casualty without an established cause was charged to the monster’s account. Thanks to the “monster”, travel between the various continents had become more and more dangerous, and the public spoke up and demanded straight out that the seas were to be purged of this fearsome creature at all costs.

During the period in which these developments were occurring, I had returned from a scientific expedition. Being an Assistant Professor at the Paris Museum of Natural History, I had been attached to this expedition by the French government. After spending six months in Nebraska, I arrived in New York laden with valuable collections near the end of March. My departure for France was set for early May. In the meantime, I was busy classifying my mineralogical, botanical, and zoological treasures. That’s when that incident took place.

I was perfectly abreast of this question, which was the big news of the day. I had read and reread every American and European newspaper. This mystery puzzled me. Finding it impossible to form any views, I drifted from one extreme to the other.

Only two possible solutions to the question were left: on one side, a monster of colossal strength; on the other, an “underwater boat” of tremendous motor power. Although the latter hypothesis was completely admissible, that a private individual had such a mechanism at his disposal was less than probable. Where and when had he built it, and how could he have built it in secret?

Only a few governments could own such an engine of destruction, and it was possible that, unknown to the rest of the world, some nation could have been testing such a fearsome machine. But this hypothesis collapsed in the face of formal denials from the various governments. Since the transoceanic travel was suffering, their sincerity could not be doubted. Besides, how could the assembly of this underwater boat have escaped public notice?

And so the question of the monster surfaced again, and the human imagination soon got caught up in the most ridiculous ichthyological fantasies.

After I arrived in New York, several people did me the honor of consulting me on the phenomenon in question. In France I had published a two-volume work, in quarto, entitled The Mysteries of the Great Ocean Depths. This book had established me as a specialist in this obscure field of natural history. My views were in demand. And I had to explain myself straight out. “The honorable Pierre Aronnax[10], Professor at the Paris Museum,” was summoned by The New York Herald to formulate his views.

Since I could no longer hold my tongue, I discussed the question in its every aspect, both political and scientific, and this is an excerpt from the article I published in the issue of April 30.

“Therefore,” I wrote, “after examining these different hypotheses one by one, we are forced to accept the existence of an extremely powerful marine animal.

“The deepest parts of the ocean are totally unknown to us. What goes on in those distant depths? What creatures inhabit, or could inhabit, those regions twelve or fifteen miles beneath the surface of the water? What is the constitution of these animals?

“We can choose between two alternatives. Either we know every variety of creature populating our planet, or we do not.

“If we do not know every one of them, if nature still keeps ichthyological secrets from us, we must accept the existence of fish or cetaceans of new species or even new genera, animals with a basically ‘cast-iron’ constitution that inhabit strata beyond the reach of our views, and which can come to the upper level of the ocean for long intervals.

“If, on the other hand, we do know every living species, we must look for the animal in question among those marine creatures already cataloged, and in this event I may accept the existence of a giant narwhale.

“The common narwhale, or sea unicorn, often reaches a length of sixty feet. Increase its dimensions fivefold or even tenfold, then give this cetacean a strength in proportion to its size, and you have the animal we’re looking for.

“The narwhale is armed with a sort of ivory sword, or lance, as certain naturalists have expressed it. It’s a king-sized tooth as hard as steel. Imagine this weapon to be ten times stronger and the animal ten times more powerful, and you get just the collision we need to cause the specified catastrophe.

“This inexplicable phenomenon is thus explained away—unless it’s something else entirely, which is still possible!”

These last words were cowardly of me; but I wanted to protect my professorial dignity. I had accepted the existence of “the monster.”

My article was hotly debated, it rallied a number of supporters. Yet if some saw it purely as a scientific problem to be solved, more practical people, especially in America and England, were determined to purge the ocean of this monster, to insure the safety of transoceanic travel. A high-speed frigate, the Abraham Lincoln[11], was ready to start as soon as possible.

But, as it always happens, just when a decision had been made to chase the monster, the monster ceased to appear. For two months nobody heard a word about it. Not a single ship encountered it. People were constantly babbling about the creature, even via the Atlantic Cable! Accordingly, the wags claimed that this rascal had got some passing telegram.

So the frigate was equipped for a voyage and armed with fearsome fishing gear, but nobody knew where to steer it. And impatience grew until, on June 2, word came that a steamer on the San Francisco line sailing from California to Shanghai, had sighted the animal again, three weeks before in the northerly seas of the Pacific.

This news caused intense excitement. Not even a 24-hour breather was granted to Commander Farragut[12]. His provisions were loaded on board. His coal bunkers were overflowing. Not a crewman was missing from his post. Commander Farragut wanted nothing more than to go forth.

I received a letter three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left its pier; the letter read as follows:

Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable Secretary of the Navy, I understood that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it.

I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the Botanical Gardens, my dearly beloved collections! But now nothing could have held me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government’s offer.

“Besides,” I thought, “all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France! That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas—as a personal favor to me—and I’ll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a meter of its ivory lance! Conseil[13]!” I called in an impatient voice.

Conseil was my servant. A devoted lad who went with me on all my journeys; a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment; a born stoic, punctilious on principle, hardworking, very skillful with his hands.

In Conseil I had a specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties. Classifying was everything to him, so he knew nothing else. And yet, what a fine, gallant lad he was!

For the past ten years, Conseil had gone with me everywhere. The lad was thirty years old, and I had turned forty.

Conseil had but one flaw. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person.

“Conseil!” I repeated, while beginning my preparations for departure. I had confidence in this devoted lad. Ordinarily, I never asked whether or not it suited him to go with me on my journeys; but this time an expedition could drag on indefinitely. What would Conseil say?

“Conseil!” I called a third time.

Conseil appeared.

“Did master summon me?” he said, entering.

“Yes, my boy. Get my things ready, get yours ready. We’re departing in two hours.”

“As master wishes,” Conseil replied serenely.

“We haven’t a moment to lose. Pack as much into my trunk as you can, my traveling kit, my suits, shirts, and socks, just squeeze it all in—and hurry!”

“What about master’s collections?” Conseil observed.

“We’ll deal with them later. The hotel will keep them for us.”

“Then we aren’t returning to Paris?” Conseil asked.

“Yes, we are … certainly … ,” I replied evasively, “but after we make a detour.”

“Whatever detour master wishes.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really! A route slightly less direct, that’s all. We’re leaving on the Abraham Lincoln.”

“As master thinks best,” Conseil replied placidly.

“You see, my friend, we’re going to rid the seas of the monster, the notorious narwhale! It’s a glorious mission but also a dangerous one! We don’t know where it will take us! These beasts can be quite unpredictable!”

“What master does, I’ll do,” Conseil replied.

“But think it over, because I don’t want to hide anything from you. This is one of those voyages from which people don’t always come back!”

“As master wishes.”

A quarter of an hour later, our trunks were ready. Conseil did them in a flash, and I was sure the lad hadn’t missed a thing, because he classified shirts and suits as expertly as birds and mammals.

For a fare of twenty francs, the vehicle went down Broadway to Union Square, took Fourth Ave. to its junction with Bowery St., turned into Katrin St. and halted at Pier 34. There the ferry transferred men, horses, and carriage to Brooklyn, and in a few minutes we arrived at the wharf next to which the Abraham Lincoln was vomiting torrents of black smoke from its two funnels.

Our baggage was immediately carried to the deck of the frigate. I rushed aboard and asked for Commander Farragut. One of the sailors led me to the afterdeck. I saw a smart-looking officer who extended his hand to me.

“Professor Pierre Aronnax?” he said to me.

“The same[14],” I replied. “Commander Farragut?”

“In person. Welcome aboard, professor. Your cabin is waiting for you.”

I bowed, and I was taken to the cabin.

The Abraham Lincoln was a high-speed frigate furnished with superheating equipment. Under the pressure it reached an average speed of 18.3 miles per hour, a considerable speed, but still not enough to cope with our gigantic cetacean.

I was satisfied with my cabin, which was located in the stern.

“We’ll be quite comfortable here,” I told Conseil.

I climbed on deck to watch the preparations for getting under way. If I’d been delayed by a quarter of an hour or even less, the frigate would have gone without me, and I would have missed out on this unearthly, extraordinary, and inconceivable expedition.

But Commander Farragut didn’t want to waste a single day, or even a single hour, in making for those seas where the animal had just been sighted.

“Go ahead!” Commander Farragut called.

Commander Farragut was a good seaman, worthy of the frigate he commanded. His ship and he were one. He was its very soul. He believed in cetacean as certain pious women believe in the leviathan from the Book of Job[15]—out of faith, not reason. The monster existed, and he had vowed to rid the seas of it. Either Commander Farragut would slay the narwhale, or the narwhale would slay Commander Farragut. No middle of the road for these two.

The ship’s officers shared the views of their leader. They were chatting, discussing, arguing, calculating the different chances of an encounter, and observing the vast expanse of the ocean.

As for the crew, they only wanted to encounter the unicorn, harpoon it, haul it on board, and carve it up. They surveyed the sea with scrupulous care. Besides, Commander Farragut had mentioned that a certain sum of $2,000 was waiting for the man who first sighted the animal, be he cabin boy or sailor, mate or officer.

As I said, Commander Farragut had carefully equipped his ship with all the gear needed to fish for a gigantic cetacean. No vessel could have been better armed. We had every known mechanism. On the forecastle was mounted the latest model cannon, a weapon that figured in the Universal Exhibition of 1867.

Moreover, the Abraham Lincoln had Ned Land[16], the King of Harpooners. Gifted with uncommon manual ability, Ned Land was a Canadian who had no equal in his dangerous trade. Dexterity, coolness, bravery, and cunning were virtues he possessed to a high degree. He was about forty years old. A man of great height, he was powerfully built, serious in manner, not very sociable, sometimes headstrong, and quite ill-tempered when crossed.

Commander Farragut, to my thinking, had made a wise move in hiring on this man. With his eye and his throwing arm, he was worth the whole crew all by himself. I can compare him with a powerful telescope that could serve as a cannon always ready to fire.

To say Canadian is to say French. No doubt it was my nationality that attracted him. It was an opportunity for him to speak, and for me to hear, that old dialect still used in some Canadian provinces.

Little by little Ned developed a taste for chatting, and I loved hearing the tales of his adventures in the polar seas. He described his fishing trips and his battles with great natural lyricism.

I’m writing of this bold companion as I currently know him. Ah, my gallant Ned! I ask only to live 100 years more, the longer to remember you!

And now, what were Ned Land’s views on this question of a marine monster? I must admit that he flatly didn’t believe in the unicorn, and he didn’t share the general conviction.

Three weeks after our departure we had crossed the Tropic of Capricorn, and the Strait of Magellan opened less than 700 miles to the south. Seated on the afterdeck, Ned Land and I chatted about one thing and another, staring at that mysterious sea whose depths to this day are beyond the reach of human eyes.

“Ned,” I asked him, “how can you still doubt the reality of this cetacean? Do you have any particular reasons for being so skeptical?”

The harpooner stared at me awhile before replying, closed his eyes as if to collect himself, and finally said:

“Just maybe, Professor Aronnax.”

“But Ned, you’re a professional whaler, a man familiar with all the great marine mammals—your mind should easily accept this hypothesis of an enormous cetacean!”

“That’s just where you’re mistaken, professor,” Ned replied. “The common man may still believe in fabulous comets crossing outer space, or in prehistoric monsters living at the earth’s core, but astronomers and geologists don’t swallow such fairy tales. It’s the same with whalers. I’ve chased plenty of cetaceans, I’ve harpooned a good number, I’ve killed several. But no matter how powerful and well armed they were, neither their tails or their tusks could puncture the sheet-iron plates of a steamer.”

“Listen to me, Ned—”

“No, no, professor. Some gigantic devilfish maybe…?”

“Even less likely, Ned. The devilfish is merely a mollusk. Even if it were 500 feet long, it would still be utterly harmless to ships like the Abraham Lincoln.”

“So, Mr. Naturalist,” Ned Land continued in a bantering tone, “you believe in the existence of some enormous cetacean?”

“Yes, Ned, I repeat it. I believe in the existence of a mammal with a powerful constitution, and armed with a tusk made of horn that has tremendous penetrating power.”

“Humph!” the harpooner shook his head.

“Note well,” I went on, “if such an animal exists, if it lives deep in the ocean, it needs to have a constitution so solid, it defies all comparison.”

“And why this powerful constitution?” Ned asked.

“Because it takes incalculable strength just to live in those deep strata and withstand their pressure.”

“Oh really?” Ned said.

“Oh really, and I can prove it to you with a few simple figures.”

“Oh!” Ned replied. “You can make figures do anything you want!”

“In business, Ned, but not in mathematics. Listen to me. If such animals don’t exist, my stubborn harpooner, how do you explain the accident that happened to the Scotia?”

“It’s maybe … ,” Ned said, hesitating.

“Go on!”

“Because … it just couldn’t be true!” the Canadian replied.

But this reply proved nothing. That day I pressed him no further. The Scotia’s accident was undeniable. Its hole was real enough, and I don’t think a hole’s existence can be more emphatically proven. This hole didn’t make itself, and since it hadn’t resulted from underwater rocks or underwater machines, it must have been caused by the perforating tool of some animal.

Near three o’clock in the afternoon on July 6, fifteen miles south of shore, the Abraham Lincoln doubled that solitary islet at the tip of the South American continent. Our course was set for the northwest, and the next day our frigate was in the waters of the Pacific.

Day and night we observed the surface of the ocean. The weather was good. Our voyage was proceeding under the most favorable conditions. July in this zone corresponds to our January in Europe; but the sea remained smooth and easily visible.

Ned Land spent eight hours out of every twelve reading or sleeping in his cabin. A hundred times I chided him for his unconcern.

“Bah!” he replied. “Nothing’s out there, Professor Aronnax, can’t you see we’re just wandering around at random? People say they’ve seen this slippery beast again in the Pacific seas—I want to believe it, but two months have already gone by since then! So if the beast does exist, it’s already long gone!”

I had no reply to this. Obviously we were just groping blindly. But how else could we go? Our chances were pretty limited. Yet everyone still felt confident of success.

We were finally in the area of the monster’s latest activity! The entire crew suffered from a nervous excitement that it’s beyond me to describe. Nobody ate, nobody slept. A reaction was expected to follow.

And this reaction wasn’t long in coming. For three months, during which each day seemed like a century, the Abraham Lincoln plowed all the northerly seas of the Pacific. And we found nothing!

At first, discouragement took hold of people’s minds, opening the door to disbelief. The crew called themselves “out-and-out fools”. With typical human fickleness, they jumped from one extreme to the other. Inevitably, the most enthusiastic supporters of the undertaking became its most energetic opponents.

And this futile search couldn’t drag on much longer. The Abraham Lincoln had done everything it could to succeed and had no reason to blame itself. The crew weren’t responsible for this failure; there was nothing to do but go home.

The commander’s sailors couldn’t hide their discontent, and their work suffered because of it.

Commander Farragut asked for a grace period [17]of just three days more. After this three-day delay, if the monster hadn’t appeared, the Abraham Lincoln would chart a course toward the European seas.

This promise was given on November 2. It had the immediate effect of reviving the crew’s failing spirits. The ocean was observed with renewed care. Spyglasses functioned with feverish energy.

Two days passed. The ship stayed at half steam. A thousand methods were used to spark the animal’s interest or rouse it from its apathy.

At noon the next day, November 5, the delay expired. By then the frigate lay in latitude 31 degrees 15’ north and longitude 136 degrees 42’ east. The shores of Japan were less than 200 miles to our leeward. Night was coming on. Eight o’clock had just struck. Huge clouds covered the moon’s disk.

Just then I was leaning over the starboard rail. Conseil stared straight ahead. Observing Conseil, I discovered that, just barely, the gallant lad had fallen under the general influence. At least so I thought. Perhaps his nerves were twitching with curiosity for the first time in history.

“Come on, Conseil!” I told him. “Here’s your last chance to get $2,000!”

“If master will permit my saying so,” Conseil replied, “I never expected to win that prize, and the Union government could have promised $100,000 and been none the poorer.”

“You’re right, Conseil, it turned out to be a foolish business after all, and we jumped into it too hastily. What a waste of time! Six months ago we could have been back in France—”

“In master’s little apartment,” Conseil answered. “In master’s museum! And by now I would have classified master’s fossils.”

“Quite so, Conseil, and what’s more, I imagine that people will soon be laughing at us!”

Conseil didn’t have time to answer. A voice became audible. It was Ned Land’s voice, and it shouted:

“Ahoy! There’s the thing, abreast of us to leeward!”

At this shout the entire crew rushed toward the harpooner—commander, officers, mates, sailors, cabin boys, down to engineers leaving their machinery and stokers neglecting their furnaces. The order was given to stop.

Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all saw the object his hand was indicating. Not far from the Abraham Lincoln, the sea was lit up from underneath. This was no mere phosphorescent phenomenon. The monster gave off that very intense but inexplicable glow that several captains had mentioned in their reports. This magnificent radiance had to come from some force with a great illuminating capacity.

A universal shout went up from the frigate.

“Quiet!” Commander Farragut said. “Reverse engines!”

Sailors rushed to the helm, engineers to their machinery.

“Right your helm![18] Engines forward!” Commander Farragut called.

These orders were executed. The frigate wanted to retreat, but the unearthly animal came at us with a speed double our own.

We gasped. More stunned than afraid, we stood mute and motionless. The animal played with us. It made a full circle around the frigate and wrapped us in sheets of electricity that were like luminous dust. Then it retreated two or three miles, leaving a phosphorescent trail. Suddenly the monster abruptly dashed toward the ship with frightening speed, stopped sharply twenty feet from us, and died out. Then it reappeared on the other side of the ship.

Meanwhile I was astonished at the frigate’s maneuvers. It was not fighting. Built to pursue, it was being pursued, and I commented on this to Commander Farragut. His face, ordinarily so emotionless, was stamped with indescribable astonishment.

“Professor Aronnax,” he answered me, “I don’t know what kind of fearsome creature I see, and I don’t want my frigate running foolish risks in all this darkness. Besides, how should we attack this unknown creature, how should we defend ourselves against it? Let’s wait for daylight, and then we’ll play a different role.”

“You’ve no further doubts, commander, as to the nature of this animal?”

“No, sir, it’s apparently a gigantic narwhale, and an electric one. It’s surely the most dreadful animal ever conceived by our Creator.”

The whole crew stayed on their feet all night long. No one even thought of sleeping. Unable to compete with the monster’s speed, the Abraham Lincoln slowed down. The narwhale mimicked the frigate, simply rode with the waves.

However, near midnight it disappeared, or to use a more appropriate expression, “it went out,” like a huge glowworm. Had it fled from us?

At 12:53 in the morning, a deafening hiss became audible, resembling the sound made by a waterspout expelled with tremendous intensity.

“Ned Land,” the commander asked, “you’ve often heard whales bellowing?”

“Often, sir, but never a whale like this, whose sighting earned me $2,000.”

“Correct, the prize is rightfully yours. But tell me, isn’t that the noise cetaceans make when they spurt water from their blowholes?”

“The very noise, sir, but this one’s way louder. So there can be no mistake. There’s definitely a whale lurking in our waters. With your permission, sir,” the harpooner added, “tomorrow at daybreak we’ll have words with it.”

“If it’s in a mood to listen to you, Mr. Land,” I replied in a tone far from convinced.

Near two o’clock in the morning, the core of light reappeared, no less intense, five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln. Despite the distance, despite the noise of wind and sea, we could distinctly hear the animal’s panting breath. Seemingly, the moment this enormous narwhale came up to breathe at the surface of the ocean, air was sucked into its lungs like steam into the huge cylinders.

“Hmm!” I said to myself. “Now that’s a whale of a whale!”

We stayed on the alert until daylight, getting ready for action. Our chief officer loaded the blunderbusses. Ned Land sharpened his harpoon, a dreadful weapon in his hands.

At six o’clock day began to break, and with the dawn’s early light, the narwhale’s electric glow disappeared. At seven o’clock a very dense morning mist shrank the horizon, and our best spyglasses were unable to pierce it. The outcome: disappointment and anger.

At eight o’clock the horizon grew wider and clearer all at once. Suddenly, just as on the previous evening, Ned Land’s voice was audible.

“There’s the thing, astern to port!” the harpooner shouted.

Every eye looked toward the point indicated.

There, a mile and a half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a meter above the waves. Its tail was creating a considerable eddy.

Our frigate drew nearer to the cetacean. I put its length at only 250 feet. Its girth was more difficult to judge, but the animal seemed to be wonderfully proportioned in all three dimensions.

While I was observing this phenomenal creature, two jets of steam and water sprang from its blowholes and rose to an altitude of forty meters.

The crew were waiting impatiently for orders from their leader. The latter, after carefully observing the animal, called for his engineer.

“Clap on full steam![19]” the commander said.

“Aye, sir,” the engineer replied.

Three cheers greeted this order. The hour of battle had sounded. A few moments later, the frigate’s two funnels vomited torrents of black smoke.

Driven forward by its powerful propeller, the Abraham Lincoln headed straight for the animal. Unconcerned, the latter let us come within half a cable length; then it got up a little speed, retreated, and kept its distance.

This chase dragged on for about three-quarters of an hour, but it was useless. At this rate, it was obvious that we would never catch up with it.

“Ned Land!” Commander Farragut called.

The Canadian reported at once.

“Well, Mr. Land,” the commander asked, “do you still advise putting my longboats to sea?”

“No, sir,” Ned Land replied, “because that beast won’t be caught against its will.”

“Then what should we do?”

“If we can get within a harpoon length, I’ll harpoon the brute.”

“Go to it, Ned,” Commander Farragut replied.

Ned Land made his way to his post. We verified that our ship was going at the rate of 18.5 miles per hour. But that damned animal also did a speed of 18.5. This was humiliating for one of the fastest ships in the American navy.

What a chase! No, I can’t describe the excitement that shook my very being. Ned Land stayed at his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let us approach. But by noon we were no farther along than at eight o’clock in the morning.

Commander Farragut then decided to use more direct methods.

“Bah!” he said. “So that animal is faster than us. All right, we’ll see if it can outrun our conical shells[20]!

The cannoneer fired a shot, but his shell passed some feet above the cetacean, which stayed half a mile off.

“$500 to the man who can pierce that infernal beast!” the Commander shouted

An old gray-bearded gunner approached the cannon, put it in position, and took aim. There was a mighty explosion, mingled with cheers from the crew.

The shell reached its target; it hit the animal, but not in the usual fashion—it bounced off that rounded surface and vanished into the sea two miles out.

“Oh!” said the old gunner in his anger. “That rascal must be covered with six-inch armor plate!”

“Curse the beast!” Commander Farragut shouted.

The hunt was on again, and Commander Farragut leaned over to me, saying:

“I’ll chase that animal till my frigate explodes!”

“Yes,” I replied, “and nobody would blame you!”

We could still hope that the animal would tire out. But no such luck. Hour after hour went by without it showing the least sign of weariness.

Night fell and wrapped the surging ocean in its shadows. By then I thought our expedition had come to an end, that we would never see this fantastic animal again. I was mistaken.

At 10:50 in the evening, that electric light reappeared, just as clear and intense as the night before. The narwhale seemed motionless. Was it asleep perhaps, weary from its workday, just riding with the waves? This was our chance, and Commander Farragut was determined to take full advantage of it. He gave his orders.

Ned Land went to resume his post. The frigate approached without making a sound, stopped two cable lengths from the animal. Not a soul breathed on board. A profound silence reigned over the deck.

Just then I saw Ned Land below me, one hand grasping the martingale, the other brandishing his dreadful harpoon. Barely twenty feet separated him from the motionless animal.

All at once his arm shot forward and the harpoon was launched. I heard the weapon collide resonantly, as if it had hit some hard substance.

The electric light suddenly went out, and two enormous waterspouts crashed onto the deck of the frigate, racing like a torrent, toppling crewmen, breaking masts.

A hideous collision occurred, and thrown over the rail, I was hurled into the sea.

Although I was startled by this unexpected descent, I have a very clear recollection of my sensations during it.

At first I was dragged about twenty feet under. I’m a good swimmer, and I didn’t lose my head [21]on the way down. With two vigorous kicks, I came back to the surface of the sea.

My first concern was to look for the frigate. Had the crew seen me? Would Commander Farragut put a longboat to sea? Could I hope to be rescued?

The gloom was profound. I saw a black mass disappearing eastward, where its running lights were fading out in the distance. It was the frigate.

“Help! Help!” I shouted, swimming desperately toward the Abraham Lincoln.

My clothes were weighing me down. The water glued them to my body, it was paralyzing my movements. I was sinking! I was suffocating!

“Help!”

This was the last shout I gave. My mouth was filling with water.

Suddenly my clothes were seized by energetic hands, somebody pulled me abruptly back to the surface of the sea, and yes, I heard these words pronounced in my ear:

“If master would oblige me by leaning on my shoulder, master will swim with much greater ease.”

With one hand I seized the arm of my loyal Conseil.

“You!” I said. “You!”

“Myself,” Conseil replied, “and at master’s command.”

“That collision threw you overboard along with me?”

“Not at all. But I followed master.”

The fine lad!

“What about the frigate?” I asked.

“The frigate?” Conseil replied, rolling over on his back. “Just as I jumped overboard, I heard the men at the helm shout, ‘Our propeller and rudder are smashed!’”

“Smashed?”

“Yes, smashed by the monster’s tusk! I believe it’s the sole injury the Abraham Lincoln has sustained. But most inconveniently for us, the ship can no longer steer. However, we still have a few hours before us, and in a few hours one can do a great many things!”

Conseil’s composure cheered me up. I swam more vigorously.

Our circumstances were dreadful. Perhaps they hadn’t seen us go overboard; and even if they had, the frigate couldn’t return to leeward after us. So we could count only on its longboats.

I decided to divide our energies so we wouldn’t both be worn out at the same time: while one of us lay on his back, staying motionless with arms crossed and legs outstretched, the other would swim and propel his partner forward.

I calculated on eight hours of swimming until sunrise. A strenuous task, but feasible, thanks to our relieving each other. The sea was pretty smooth and barely tired us.

Near one o’clock in the morning, I was overcome with tremendous exhaustion. And I soon heard the poor Conseil gasping; his breathing became shallow and quick. I didn’t think he could stand such exertions for much longer.

“Go on! Go on!” I told him.

“Leave master behind?” he replied. “Never!”

The moon appeared. The surface of the sea glistened under its rays. I held up my head. I saw the frigate. It was five miles from us and formed a dark, barely perceptible mass. But as for longboats, not a one in sight!

I tried to call out. What was the use at such a distance! My swollen lips wouldn’t let a single sound through. Conseil could still articulate a few words, and I heard him repeat at intervals:

“Help! Help!”

We listened. And it may have been a ringing in my ear, but it seemed to me that Conseil’s shout had received an answer back.

“Did you hear that?” I muttered.

“Yes, yes!”

And Conseil hurled another desperate plea into space.

This time there could be no mistake! A human voice had answered us! Was it the voice of some other victim of that collision suffered by our ship? Or was it one of the frigate’s longboats, hailing us out of the gloom?

Conseil made one final effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then fell back exhausted.

“What did you see?”

“I saw … ,” he muttered, “I saw … but we mustn’t talk … save our strength … !”

What had he seen? Conseil kept towing me. Sometimes he looked up, stared straight ahead, and shouted a request for directions, which was answered by a voice that was getting closer and closer. I could barely hear it. I was at the end of my strength; my fingers gave out; my hands were no help to me; my mouth opened convulsively, filling with brine. I raised my head one last time, then I fainted.

This capture was carried out with lightning speed. My companions and I had no time to collect ourselves. I don’t know how they felt, but as for me, I was shivering all over. With whom were we dealing? Surely with some pirates.

The narrow hatch had barely closed over me when I was surrounded by profound darkness. I felt my naked feet clinging to the steps of an iron ladder. Ned Land and Conseil were behind me. At the foot of the ladder, a door opened and instantly closed behind us.

We were alone. Where? I couldn’t say, I couldn’t even imagine. All was darkness.

“Damnation!” Ned Land exclaimed. “These people are not very hospitable! I wouldn’t be surprised if they were cannibals!”

“Calm yourself, Ned my friend,” Conseil replied serenely. “We aren’t in a kettle yet!”

“In a kettle, no,” the Canadian shot back, “but in an oven for sure. Luckily my knife hasn’t left me, and I can still see well enough to use it. The first one of these bandits who lays a hand on me—”

“Don’t be so irritable, Ned,” I then told the harpooner, “and don’t ruin things for us. Who knows whether they might be listening to us? Instead, let’s try to find out where we are!”

Half an hour had already gone by without our situation changing, when our eyes saw blinding light. Our prison lit up all at once. I recognized the electric glow.

“Finally! It’s light enough to see!” Ned Land exclaimed, knife in hand.

“Yes,” I replied. “But as for our situation, we’re still in the dark.”

“Master must learn patience,” said the emotionless Conseil.

This sudden illumination of our cabin enabled me to examine its details. It contained only a table and five stools. Its invisible door must have been hermetically sealed. Not a sound reached our ears. Everything seemed dead inside this boat. Was it in motion, or stationary on the surface of the ocean, or sinking into the depths? I couldn’t tell.

A door opened, and two men appeared. One was short and stocky, powerfully muscled, broad shouldered, robust of limbs, the hair black and luxuriant, the mustache heavy, the eyes bright and penetrating.

The second stranger was a man of great pride, his calm, firm gaze seemed to reflect thinking on an elevated plane. Whether this individual was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not precisely state. He was tall, his forehead broad, his nose straight, his mouth clearly etched, his teeth magnificent, his hands refined. One unusual detail: his eyes were spaced a little far from each other and could instantly take in nearly a quarter of the horizon.

Wearing caps made of sea-otter fur, and shod in sealskin fishing boots, these two strangers were dressed in clothing made from some unique fabric that allowed great freedom of movement.

The taller of the two—apparently the leader on board—examined us with the greatest care but without pronouncing a word. Then, turning to his companion, he conversed with him in a language I didn’t recognize. It was a sonorous, harmonious, flexible dialect.

The other replied with a shake of the head and added two or three incomprehensible words. Then he looked at me.

I replied in clear French that I wasn’t familiar with his language; but he didn’t seem to understand me.

“Still, master should tell our story,” Conseil said to me. “Perhaps these gentlemen will grasp a few words of it!”

I tried again, telling the tale of our adventures, clearly articulating my every syllable, and not leaving out a single detail. I stated our names and titles; then, in order, I introduced myself, Professor Aronnax, my servant Conseil, and Mr. Ned Land, harpooner.

The man with calm, gentle eyes listened to me serenely, even courteously, and paid remarkable attention. But nothing indicated that he understood my story. When I finished, he didn’t pronounce a single word.

One resource still left was to speak English. Perhaps they would be familiar with this nearly universal language.

“Come on, it’s your turn,” I told the harpooner. “Mr. Land. Try for a more favorable result than mine.”

Ned started our story all over again. Its content was the same, but the form differed. Carried away by his volatile temperament, the Canadian complained vehemently about being imprisoned in defiance of his civil rights. And he added that we were dying of hunger. This was perfectly true, but we had nearly forgotten the fact.

Our visitors didn’t not say a word. I no longer knew what tactic to pursue, when Conseil told me:

“If master will authorize me, I’ll tell the whole business in German.”

“What! You know German?” I exclaimed.

“Like most Flemish people, with all due respect to master.”

And Conseil, in his serene voice, described for the third time our story. But despite our narrator’s fine accent, the German language met with no success.

Finally, as a last resort, I tried to narrate our adventures in Latin. With the same negative result.

The two strangers exchanged a few words in their incomprehensible language and withdrew. The door closed again.

“This is outrageous!” Ned Land shouted. “We speak French, English, German, and Latin to theserogues, and neither of them has the decency to even answer back!”

“Calm down, Ned,” I told the seething harpooner. “Anger won’t get us anywhere. We mustn’t despair. Let us wait a bit before we form our views on the commander and crew of this boat.”

“My views are fully formed,” Ned Land shot back. “They’re rogues!”

“Oh good! And from what country?”

“Roguedom!”

“My gallant Ned, that country isn’t clearly marked on maps of the world. What is the nationality of these two strangers? Neither English, French, nor German, that’s all we can say. But there must be southern blood in them. Probably they’re Spaniards, Turks, Arabs, or East Indians. And as for their speech, it’s incomprehensible.”

The door opened. A steward entered. He brought us some clothes, jackets and sailor’s pants, made out of a fabric whose nature I didn’t recognize. We hurried to change into them.

Meanwhile our silent steward, perhaps a deaf-mute, set the table and laid three place settings.

Overlaid with silver dish covers, various platters had been neatly positioned on the table cloth, and we sat down to eat. Assuredly, we were dealing with civilized people. The water was fresh and clear. Among the foods we were served, I was able to identify various fish. As for the tableware, it was elegant and in perfect taste. Each utensil, spoon, fork, knife, and plate, bore on its reverse a letter encircled by a Latin motto:

Moving within the moving element! It was a highly appropriate motto for this underwater machine. The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of that mystifying individual in command beneath the seas!

Our appetites appeased, we felt an urgent need for sleep. A natural reaction after that interminable night of fighting for our lives.

My two companions lay down on the cabin’s carpeting and were soon deep in slumber.

As for me, too many thoughts had piled up in my mind, too many insoluble questions had arisen, too many images were keeping my eyelids open! Where were we? What strange power was carrying us along? Then my mind grew calmer, my imagination melted into hazy drowsiness, and I soon fell into an uneasy slumber.

I had gotten up from my passably hard mattress when I felt my mind clear. So I began a careful reexamination of our cell.

Nothing had changed in its interior arrangements. The prison was still a prison and its prisoners still prisoners. But the steward had cleared the table. Consequently, nothing indicated any forthcoming improvement in our situation, and I seriously wondered if we were doomed to spend the rest of our lives in this cage.

It was becoming hard for me to breathe. The heavy air was no longer sufficient for my lungs. Although our cell was large, we obviously had used up most of the oxygen it contained.

So it was now urgent to renew the air in our prison, and no doubt the air in this whole underwater boat as well.

How did the commander of this aquatic residence get fresh air? Did he obtain air using chemical methods, releasing the oxygen contained in potassium chlorate by heating it? If so, he would have to keep up some kind of relationship with the shore.

Suddenly I was refreshed by a current of clean air, scented with a salty aroma. It had to be a sea breeze, life-giving and charged with iodine! I opened my mouth wide. This boat, this sheet-iron monster, had obviously just risen to the surface of the ocean. So the ship’s mode of ventilation was finally established.

Ned and Conseil woke up almost simultaneously, under the influence of this reviving air purification. They rubbed their eyes, stretched their arms, and sprang to their feet.

“Did master sleep well?” Conseil asked me.

“Extremely well, my gallant lad,” I replied. “And how about you, Mr. Ned Land?”

“Like a log, professor. But it seems like I’m breathing a sea breeze!”

A seaman couldn’t be wrong on this topic, and I told the Canadian what had gone on while he slept.

“Good!” he said. “That explains perfectly everything. But I’ve no idea what time it is, Professor Aronnax, maybe it’s dinnertime?”

“Dinnertime, my fine harpooner? I’d say at least breakfast time, because we’ve certainly woken up to a new day.”

“Which indicates,” Conseil replied, “that we’ve spent twenty-four hours in slumber.”

“That’s my assessment,” I replied.

“I won’t argue with you,” Ned Land answered. “But dinner or breakfast, that steward will be plenty welcome whether he brings the one or the other.”

“The one and the other,” Conseil said.

“Well,” the Canadian replied. “We deserve two meals.”

“All right, Ned, let’s wait and see!” I replied. “It’s clear that these strangers don’t intend to let us die of hunger.”

“Unless they’re fattening us up!” Ned shot back.

“I object,” I replied. “We have not fallen into the hands of cannibals.”

“Who knows?” the Canadian replied in all seriousness. “Maybe these people have gone without fresh meat for a long while, and in that case three healthy, well-built specimens like the professor, his servant, and me—”

“Get rid of those ideas, Mr. Land,” I answered the harpooner.

“Anyhow,” the harpooner said, “I’m hungry!”

“Mr. Land,” I answered, “we have to adapt to the schedule on board, and I imagine our stomachs are running ahead of the chief cook’s dinner bell.”

“Well then, we’ll adjust our stomachs to the chef’s timetable!” Conseil replied serenely.

“Conseil my friend!” the impatient Canadian shot back. “You’re so calm! You’d starve to death rather than complain!”

“Let’s wait,” I said. “Let’s be guided by events, and let’s do nothing, since right now there’s nothing we can do.”

“On the contrary, professor,” the harpooner replied. “There is something we can do.”

“Oh? And what, Mr. Land?”

“Break out of here![24]”

“Breaking out of a prison on shore is difficult enough, but with an underwater prison, it is completely impossible.”

The harpooner said nothing. Under the conditions in which fate had left us, it was absolutely impossible to escape.

“So, Professor Aronnax,” Ned Land went on after thinking for a few moments, “you haven’t figured out what people do when they can’t escape from their prison?”

“No, my friend.”

“Easy. They kick out all the jailers, guards, and wardens,” Ned Land added.

“What’s this, Ned?” I asked. “You’d seriously consider it?”

“Very seriously,” the Canadian replied.

“It’s impossible.”

“And why is that, sir? Some promising opportunity might come up, and I don’t see what could stop us from taking advantage of it!”

Then our conversation finished, and each of us withdrew into his own thoughts. For my part, I had no faith in those promising opportunities that Ned Land mentioned. Besides, before we could do anything, we had to be free, and that we definitely were not.

Ned Land’s hunger was getting him madder and madder. He stood up, pacing in circles like a wild beast in a cage, striking the walls with his foot and fist. Meanwhile the hours passed, our hunger nagged unmercifully, and this time the steward did not appear.

For two more hours Ned Land’s rage increased. The Canadian shouted and pleaded, but the sheet-iron walls were deaf. I didn’t hear a single sound inside this boat. The vessel had undoubtedly sunk into the watery deep and no longer belonged to the outside world.

A noise was audible outside. The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.

Before I could make a single movement to prevent him, the Canadian rushed at the poor man, threw him down, held him by the throat.

Conseil was already trying to loosen the harpooner’s hands from his half-suffocated victim, and I had gone to join him, when I heard these words pronounced in French:

“Calm down, Mr. Land! And you, professor, kindly listen to me!”

It was the ship’s commander who had just spoken. At these words Ned Land stood up quickly. In silence we waited for the outcome of this scene; Conseil seemed almost fascinated, I was stunned.

Arms crossed, leaning against a corner of the table, the commander studied us with great care. Did he regret those words he had just pronounced in French? You would have thought so.

“Gentlemen,” he said in a calm, penetrating voice, “I speak French, English, German, and Latin with equal fluency. Hence I could have answered you as early as our initial interview, but first I wanted to make your acquaintance. Your four versions of the same narrative established your personal identities for me. Now I know you: Professor Pierre Aronnax, specialist in natural history at the Paris Museum and entrusted with a scientific mission abroad, his servant Conseil, and Ned Land, a harpooner of Canadian origin aboard the Abraham Lincoln, a frigate in the national navy of the United States of America.”

I bowed in agreement. The commander hadn’t put a question to me. This man expressed himself with perfect ease and without a trace of an accent. His words were well chosen.

He went on:

“I had great difficulty deciding to talk to you. I am the man who has cut himself off from humanity. Your coming has disrupted my whole existence.”

“Unintentionally,” I said.

“Unintentionally?” the stranger replied, raising his voice a little. “Was it unintentionally that the Abraham Lincoln hunted me on every sea? Was it unintentionally that you traveled aboard that frigate? Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land hit me with his harpoon?”

I detected a controlled irritation in these words.

“Sir,” I said, “you’re surely unaware of the discussions that have taken place in Europe and America with yourself as the subject. You don’t realize that various accidents, caused by collisions with your underwater machine, have aroused public passions on those two continents. We’ve tried to explain this inexplicable phenomenon, whose secret is yours alone. But please understand that the Abraham Lincoln chased you over the Pacific high seas in the belief it was hunting some powerful marine monster.”

A half smile curled the commander’s lips. He said, in a calmer tone:

“Professor Aronnax,” he replied, “do you believe that your frigate wouldn’t have chased and cannonaded an underwater boat as readily as a monster?”

This question baffled me, since Commander Farragut would certainly have shown no such hesitation.

“So you understand, sir,” the stranger went on, “that I have a right to treat you as my enemy.”

I kept quiet.

“Nothing obliged me to grant you hospitality,” the commander went on. “I could sink under the sea, and I could forget you ever existed. Wouldn’t that be my right?”

“Perhaps it would be the right of a savage,” I replied. “But not that of a civilized man.”

“Professor,” the commander replied swiftly, “I’m not what you term a civilized man! I’ve severed all ties with society. Therefore I obey none of its regulations.”

This man had rendered himself independent, out of all reach, free in the strictest sense of the word! No man could call him to account for his actions. These thoughts swiftly crossed my mind.

After a long silence, the commander went on with our conversation.

“But since fate has brought you here,” he said. “you’ll stay aboard my vessel. You’ll be free here, and in exchange for that freedom, I’ll lay on you just one condition. Your word that you’ll submit to it will be sufficient.”

“Go on, sir,” I replied. “I assume this condition is one an honest man can accept?”

“Yes, sir. Just this. It’s possible that certain unforeseen events may force me to confine you to your cabins for some hours, or even for some days. Since I prefer never to use violence, I expect from you in such a case your unquestioning obedience. Do you accept this condition?”

“We accept,” I replied. “Only, I’ll ask your permission, sir, to address a question to you, just one.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“You said we’d be free aboard your vessel?”

“Completely.”

“Then I would ask what you mean by this freedom.”

“Why, the freedom to come, go, see, and even closely observe everything happening here—in short, the freedom we ourselves enjoy, my companions and I.”

It was obvious that we did not understand each other.

“Pardon me, sir,” I went on, “but that’s merely the freedom that every prisoner has, the freedom to pace his cell! That’s not enough for us.”

“Nevertheless, it will have to do!”

“What! We must give up seeing our homeland, friends, and relatives ever again?”

“Yes, sir. But giving up that intolerable earthly yoke that some men call freedom is perhaps less painful than you think!”

“By thunder!” Ned Land shouted. “I’ll never promise I won’t try getting out of here!”

“I didn’t ask for such a promise, Mr. Land,” the commander replied coldly.

“Sir,” I replied, “you’re taking unfair advantage of us! This is cruelty!”

“No, sir, it’s an act of mercy! You’re my prisoners of war! I’ve cared for you when I could plunge you back into the ocean depths! You attacked me! You’ve known the secret no living man must know, the secret of my entire existence! Do you think I’ll send you back to a world that must know nothing more of me? Never!”

“Then, sir,” I went on, “you give us, quite simply, a choice between life and death?”

“Quite simply.”

“My friends,” I said, “we have nothing to do. But no solemn promises bind us to the commander of this vessel.”

“None, sir,” the stranger replied.

Then, in a gentler voice, he went on:

“Now, allow me to finish what I have to tell you. I’ve heard of you, Professor Aronnax. Among my books you’ll find the work you’ve published on the great ocean depths. But you don’t know everything because you haven’t seen everything. Let me tell you, professor, you won’t regret the time you spend aboard my vessel. You’re going to voyage through a land of wonders. I’m going to make another underwater tour of the world—perhaps my last, who knows?—and I’ll review everything I’ve studied in the depths of these seas that I’ve crossed so often, and you can be my fellow student.”

I can’t deny it; the commander’s words had a tremendous effect on me. He had caught me on my weak side, and I momentarily forgot that this experience was worth the loss of my freedom. So I replied:

“Sir, even though you’ve cut yourself off from humanity, I can see that you haven’t disowned all human feeling. We’re castaways, you’ve saved us, we’ll never forget that. I have but one last question.”

“Ask it, professor.”

“By what name am I to call you?”

“Sir,” the commander replied, “to you, I’m simply Captain Nemo; to me, you and your companions are simply passengers on the Nautilus.”

Captain Nemo went out. A steward appeared. The captain gave him his orders in that strange language I couldn’t even identify. Then, turning to the Canadian and Conseil:

“A meal is waiting for you in your cabin,” he told them. “Kindly follow this man.”

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse!” the harpooner replied.

“And now, Professor Aronnax, our own breakfast is ready. Allow me to lead the way.”

“Yours to command, captain.”

I went down a kind of electrically lit passageway that resembled a gangway on a ship. After a stretch of some ten meters, a second door opened before me.

I then entered a dining room, decorated and furnished in austere good taste. Tall oaken sideboards stood at both ends of this room, and sparkling on their shelves were rows of earthenware, porcelain, and glass of incalculable value. In the center of this room stood a table, richly spread. Captain Nemo indicated the place I was to occupy.

“Be seated,” he told me, “and eat, please.”

Our breakfast consisted of several dishes whose contents were all supplied by the sea, and some foods whose nature was unknown to me. These various food items seemed to be rich in phosphorous.

Captain Nemo stared at me. I had asked him nothing, but he read my thoughts, and on his own he answered the questions I was itching to address him.

“Most of these dishes are new to you,” he told me. “But you can consume them without fear. They’re healthy and nourishing. I renounced terrestrial foods long ago. My crew are strong and full of energy, and they eat what I eat.”

“So,” I said, “all these foods are products of the sea?”

“Yes, professor, the sea supplies all my needs. Sometimes I cast my nets, sometimes I go hunting far out of man’s reach, and I corner the game that dwells in my underwater forests. My herds graze without fear on the ocean’s immense prairies.”

I stared at Captain Nemo in definite astonishment, and I answered him:

“Sir, I understand perfectly how your nets can furnish excellent fish for your table; I understand less how you can chase aquatic game in your underwater forests; but how a piece of red meat, no matter how small, can figure in your menu, that I don’t understand at all.”

“Nor I, sir,” Captain Nemo answered me. “I never touch the flesh of land animals.”

“Nevertheless, this … ,” I went on, pointing to a dish where some slices of loin were still left.

“What you believe to be red meat, professor, is nothing other than loin of sea turtle. Similarly, here are some dolphin livers you might mistake for stewed pork. My chef is a skillful food processor. Feel free to try all of these foods. Here are some preserves of sea cucumber, here’s cream from milk furnished by the udders of cetaceans, and sugar from the huge fucus plants in the North Sea; and finally, allow me to offer you some marmalade of sea anemone, equal to that from the tastiest fruits. The sea, Professor Aronnax, not only feeds me, it dresses me as well. That fabric covering you was woven from the masses of filaments that anchor certain seashells. The perfumes you’ll find on the washstand in your cabin were produced from the oozings of marine plants. Your mattress was made from the ocean’s softest eelgrass. Your pen will be whalebone, your ink a juice secreted by cuttlefish or squid. Everything comes to me from the sea, just as someday everything will return to it!”

“You love the sea, captain.”

“Yes, I love it! The sea is everything! It covers seven-tenths of the planet earth. Its breath is clean and healthy. It’s an immense wilderness where a man is never lonely. It’s simply movement and love; it’s living infinity. The sea is a vast pool of nature. Our globe began with the sea, so to speak, and who can say we won’t end with it! Here lies supreme tranquility. The sea doesn’t belong to tyrants. On its surface they can battle each other, devour each other. But thirty feet below sea level, their dominion ceases, their influence fades, their power vanishes! Live in the heart of the seas! Here alone lies independence! Here I’m free!”

Captain Nemo suddenly fell silent in the midst of this enthusiastic speech. Had he said too much? Then he turned to me:

“Now, professor,” he said, “if you’d like to inspect the Nautilus, I’m yours to command.”

Captain Nemo stood up. I followed him. Contrived at the rear of the dining room, a double door opened, and I entered a room.

It was a library. Tall, black-rosewood bookcases held a large number of books. Light, movable reading stands, which could be pushed away or pulled near as desired, allowed books to be positioned on them for easy study. In the center stood a huge table covered with pamphlets, among which some newspapers. Electric light was falling from four globes set in the ceiling. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Captain Nemo,” I told my host, “this is a library that would do credit to more than one continental palace, and I truly marvel to think it can go with you into the deepest seas.”

“Where could one find greater silence or solitude, professor?” Captain Nemo replied. “Did your study at the museum afford you such a perfect retreat?”

“No, sir, and I might add that you own 6,000 or 7,000 volumes here.”

“12,000, Professor Aronnax. They’re my sole remaining ties with dry land. I left the shore the day my Nautilus submerged for the first time under the waters. That day I purchased my last volumes, my last pamphlets, my last newspapers. Professor, these books are at your disposal, and you may use them freely.”

I thanked Captain Nemo and approached the shelves of this library. Written in every language, books on science, ethics, and literature were there in abundance, but I didn’t see a single work on economics. One odd detail: all these books were shelved indiscriminately without regard to the language in which they were written, and this jumble proved that the Nautilus’s captain could read fluently many languages.

Among these books I noted masterpieces by the greats of ancient and modern times. Books on history, poetry, fiction, and science, mechanics, ballistics, hydrography, meteorology, geography, geology, natural history, astronomy!

“Sir,” I told the captain, “thank you for placing this library at my disposal. There are scientific treasures here, and I’ll take advantage of them.”

“This room isn’t only a library,” Captain Nemo said, “it’s also a smoking room.”

“A smoking room?” I exclaimed. “Then one may smoke on board?”

“Surely.”

“In that case, sir, I’m forced to believe that you’ve kept up relations with Havana.”

“None whatever,” the captain replied. “Try this cigar, Professor Aronnax, and even though it doesn’t come from Havana, it will satisfy you.”

I took the cigar that was offered me, whose shape recalled those from Cuba; but it seemed to be made of gold leaf. I lit it.

“It’s excellent,” I said, “but it’s not from the tobacco plant.”

“Right,” the captain replied, “this tobacco comes from neither Havana nor the Orient. It’s a kind of nicotine-rich seaweed that the ocean supplies me. Smoke these cigars whenever you like, without debating their origin.”

Then Captain Nemo opened a door, and I passed into an immense, splendidly lit lounge.

It was a huge quadrilateral with canted corners, ten meters long, six wide, five high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with delicate arabesques, distributed a soft, clear daylight over all the wonders gathered in this museum. For a museum it truly was!

Thirty pictures by the masters, tapestries of austere design. There I saw canvases of the highest value. Wonderful miniature statues in marble or bronze, modeled after antiquity’s finest originals, stood on their pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum.

“Sir,” I replied, “might I venture to identify you as an artist?”

“A collector, sir, nothing more. Formerly I loved acquiring these beautiful works created by the hand of man, and I’ve been able to gather some objects of great value. They’re my last mementos of those shores that are now dead for me. In my eyes, your modern artists are already as old as the ancients. They’ve existed for 2,000 or 3,000 years, and I mix them up in my mind. The masters are ageless.”

Captain Nemo fell silent and seemed lost in reverie. I regarded him with intense excitement. Leaning his elbow on the corner of a valuable mosaic table, he no longer saw me, he had forgotten my very presence.

I didn’t disturb his meditations but continued to pass in review the curiosities that enriched this lounge.

After the works of art, natural rarities predominated. They consisted chiefly of plants, shells, and other exhibits from the ocean.

“You’re examining my shells, professor? For me they have an added charm, since I’ve collected every one of them with my own two hands, and not a sea on the globe has escaped my investigations.”

“I understand, captain. You’re a man who gathers his treasure in person. No museum in Europe owns such a collection of exhibits from the ocean. May I learn—”

“Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo answered me, “I’ve said you’d be free aboard my vessel. You may inspect the Nautilus in detail, and I’ll be delighted to act as your guide. But beforehand, come inspect the cabin set aside for you.”

I followed Captain Nemo led me back down the ship’s gangways. He took me to the bow, and there I found not just a cabin but an elegant stateroom with a bed, a washstand, and various other furnishings.

I could only thank my host.

“Your stateroom adjoins mine,” he told me, opening a door, “and mine leads into that lounge we’ve just left.”

I entered the captain’s stateroom. It had an austere, almost monastic appearance. An iron bedstead, a worktable, some washstand fixtures. Subdued lighting. No luxuries. Just the bare necessities.

Captain Nemo showed me to a bench.

“Kindly be seated,” he told me.

I sat, and he began speaking,

“Sir,” Captain Nemo said, showing me the instruments hanging on the walls of his stateroom, “these are the devices needed to navigate the Nautilus. Here, as in the lounge, I always have them before my eyes, and they indicate my position and exact heading in the middle of the ocean. You’re familiar with some of them, such as the thermometer, which gives the temperature inside the Nautilus; the barometer, which measures the heaviness of the outside air and forecasts changes in the weather; the humidistat, which indicates the degree of dryness in the atmosphere; the storm glass, which foretells the arrival of tempests; the compass, which steers my course; the sextant, which takes the sun’s altitude and tells me my latitude; chronometers, which allow me to calculate my longitude; and finally, spyglasses for both day and night, enabling me to scrutinize every point of the horizon once the Nautilus has risen to the surface of the waves.”

“These are the normal navigational instruments,” I replied, “and I’m familiar with their uses. But no doubt these others are unique. That one—isn’t it a pressure gauge[25]?”

“It is indeed a pressure gauge. It’s placed in contact with the water, and it gives me the depth at which my submersible is sitting.”

“And these?”

“They’re thermometric sounding lines[26] that report water temperatures in the different strata.”

“And these other instruments, whose functions I can’t even guess?”

“Here, professor, I need to give you some background information,” Captain Nemo said. He fell silent for some moments, then he said:

“There’s a powerful, obedient, swift, and effortless force which reigns supreme aboard my vessel. It does everything. It lights me, it warms me, it’s the soul of my mechanical equipment. This force is electricity.”

“Electricity!” I exclaimed in some surprise.

“Yes, sir.”

“But, captain, you have a tremendous speed of movement! How do you replace this marvelous force, since you no longer stay in contact with the shore?”

“At the bottom of the sea there exist much zinc, iron, silver, and gold, and I use the sea itself for the source of my electricity.”

“The sea itself?”

“Yes, professor. You’re familiar with the composition of salt water. In 1,000 grams one finds 96.5% water and about 2.66% sodium chloride[27], and so on. It’s this sodium that I extract from salt water and with which I compose my electric cells.”

“Sodium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain, I fully understand the excellence of sodium. The sea contains it. Fine. But it still has to be extracted. And how do you accomplish this?”

“I don’t extract it with batteries; I utilize the heat of coal from the earth. I owe everything to the ocean; it generates electricity, and electricity gives the Nautilus heat, light, motion, and, in a word, life itself.”

“But not the air you breathe?”

“Oh, I could produce the air needed on board, but it would be pointless, since I can rise to the surface of the sea whenever I like.”

“Captain,” I replied, “all mankind will surely find the true dynamic power of electricity one day!”

“I’m not so certain they’ll find it,” Captain Nemo replied icily, standing up. “And if you follow me, we’ll inspect the Nautilus’s stern.”

I followed Captain Nemo down gangways, and I arrived amidships. There I found an iron ladder, clamped to the wall, led to the shaft’s upper end. I asked the captain what this ladder was for.

“It goes to the skiff,” he replied.

“What! You have a skiff?” I replied in some astonishment.

“Surely. An excellent longboat, light and unsinkable, which is used for excursions and fishing trips. The skiff is attached to the topside of the Nautilus’s hull. This ladder leads to a manhole cut into the hull and corresponding to a comparable hole cut into the side of the skiff. I insert myself through this double opening into the longboat.”

“But how do you return to the ship?”

“I don’t, Professor Aronnax; the Nautilus returns to me.”

“At your command?”

“At my command. An electric wire connects me to the ship. Come into the lounge. It’s actually our work room, and there you’ll learn the full story about the Nautilus!”

“Ah, commander,” I exclaimed with conviction, “your Nautilus is truly a marvelous boat!”

“Yes, professor,” Captain Nemo replied with genuine excitement, “and I love it as if it were my own flesh and blood! This is an ideal ship! And I’m its captain, builder, and engineer all in one!”

I couldn’t resist asking one question.

“You’re an engineer, then, Captain Nemo?”

“Yes, professor,” he answered me. “I studied in London, Paris, and New York back in the days when I was a resident of the earth’s continents.”

“But how were you able to build this wonderful ship in secret?”

“Each part of it, Professor Aronnax, came from a different spot on the globe. Its keel was forged in France, the sheet-iron plates for its hull in Liverpool, its propeller in Glasgow. Its tanks were manufactured in Paris, its engine in Prussia, its spur in Sweden, its precision instruments in New York, etc.”

“But,” I went on, “once these parts were manufactured, didn’t they have to be mounted and adjusted?”

“Professor, I set up my workshops on a deserted islet in the middle of the ocean. There our Nautilus was completed by me and my workmen. Then, when the operation was over, we burned every trace of our stay on that islet.”

“May I assume that such a boat costs a fortune?”

“About 2,000,000 francs; and 5,000,000 with all the collections and works of art it contains.”

“One last question, Captain Nemo.”

“Ask, professor.”

“You’re rich, then?”

“Infinitely rich, sir, and without any trouble, I could pay the ten-billion-franc French national debt!”

“If you don’t mind, professor,” Captain Nemo told me, “we’ll determine our exact position and fix the starting point of our voyage. It’s fifteen minutes before noon. I’m going to rise to the surface of the water.”

The captain pressed an electric bell three times. The pumps began to expel water from the ballast tanks; on the pressure gauge, a needle marked the decreasing pressures.

“Here we are,” the captain said after some time.

I made my way to the central companionway, which led to the platform. I climbed its metal steps, passed through the open hatches, and arrived topside on the Nautilus.

The platform emerged only eighty centimeters above the waves. The Nautilus could’ve been compared to a long cigar. Its sheet-iron plates resembled the scales covering the bodies of our big land reptiles. So I had a perfectly natural explanation for why this boat had always been mistaken for a marine animal.

The sea was magnificent, the skies clear. A mild breeze out of the east rippled the surface of the water. The horizon was free of all mist. There was nothing to be seen. Not a reef, not an islet. No more Abraham Lincoln. A deserted immenseness.

I took one last look at the sea, and I went below again to the main lounge. There the captain used a chronometer to calculate his longitude. Then he told me:

“Professor Aronnax, we’re in longitude 137 degrees 15’ west of the meridian of Paris, and latitude 30 degrees 7’ north, in other words, about 300 miles from the shores of Japan. And now, professor, I’ll leave you. Here are some charts on which you’ll be able to follow the course. The lounge is at your disposal.”

Captain Nemo bowed. I was left to myself, lost in my thoughts. They all centered on the Nautilus’s commander. Would I ever learn the nationality of this eccentric man? His hate for humanity—what had provoked it? Was he one of those scholars, whose careers were ruined by political revolutions? I couldn’t say yet. As for me, he had received me coolly but hospitably.

For an entire hour I was trying to probe this mystery that fascinated me so. Then my eyes focused on a huge world map displayed on the table.

Suddenly Ned Land and Conseil appeared in the lounge doorway.

“Where are we?” the Canadian exclaimed. “In the museum?”

“Begging master’s pardon,” Conseil answered, “but this seems more like the artifacts exhibition!”

“My friends,” I replied, signaling them to enter, “you’re aboard the Nautilus, fifty meters below sea level.”

“If master says so, then so be it,” Conseil answered.

“My friend, have a look, because there’s plenty of work here for a classifier of your talents.”

Ned Land questioned me about my interview with Captain Nemo. Had I discovered who he was, where he came from, where he was heading, how deep he was taking us? In short, a thousand questions I had no time to answer.

I told him everything I knew—or, rather, everything I didn’t know—and I asked him what he had seen or heard on his part.

“Haven’t seen or heard a thing!” the Canadian replied. “I haven’t even seen the crew of this boat. Could they be electric too?”

“Electric?”

“Professor Aronnax,” Ned Land said, “can’t you tell me how many men are on board? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?”

“I’m unable to answer you, Mr. Land. And trust me on this: for the moment, get rid of these ideas of taking over the Nautilus or escaping from it. This boat is a masterpiece of modern technology! So keep calm, and let’s see what’s happening around us.”

“See!” the harpooner exclaimed. “There’s nothing to see, nothing we’ll ever see from this sheet-iron prison!”

Ned Land was just pronouncing these last words when we were suddenly plunged into darkness, utter darkness. The ceiling lights went out quickly.

Suddenly, daylight appeared on both sides of the lounge. The liquid masses came into view. We were separated from the sea by two panes of glass.

The sea was clearly visible for a one-mile radius around the Nautilus. What a sight! What pen could describe it?

“You wanted to see something, Ned my friend; well, now you have something to see!”

“How unusual!” the Canadian said. “Such a sight!”

Suddenly daylight appeared in the lounge. The sheet-iron panels slid shut. The magical vision disappeared. The compass still showed our heading as east-northeast, the pressure gauge indicated a pressure of five atmospheres (corresponding to a depth of fifty meters), and the our speed was fifteen miles per hour.

I waited for Captain Nemo. But he didn’t appear. The clock marked the hour of five.

Ned Land and Conseil returned to their cabin. As for me, I went to my stateroom. There I found dinner ready for me. I spent the evening in reading, writing, and thinking. Then drowsiness overtook me, and I fell into a deep slumber.

The next day, November 9, I woke up only after a long, twelve-hour slumber. Conseil came to ask how my night went and to offer his services. He had left his Canadian friend sleeping.

I was concerned about Captain Nemo’s absence during our session the previous afternoon, and I hoped to see him again today.

Soon I had put on my clothes, which were woven from strands of seashell tissue. As soon as I was dressed, I made my way to the main lounge. It was deserted.

The entire day passed without a visit from Captain Nemo. The panels in the lounge didn’t open. The Nautilus kept heading east-northeast, a speed of twelve miles per hour, and a depth between fifty and sixty meters.

Next day, November 10: the same neglect, the same solitude. I didn’t see a soul from the crew. Ned and Conseil spent the better part of the day with me. They were astonished at the captain’s inexplicable absence. Was this eccentric man ill? Did he want to change his plans concerning us?

But after all, as Conseil noted, we enjoyed complete freedom, and were abundantly fed. We couldn’t complain, and moreover we had no grounds for criticism.

That day I started my diary of these adventures, which has enabled me to narrate them with the most scrupulous accuracy; and one odd detail: I wrote it on paper manufactured from marine eelgrass.

Early in the morning on November 11, fresh air poured through the Nautilus’s interior, informing me that we had returned to the surface of the ocean to renew our oxygen supply. I headed for the central companionway and climbed onto the platform.

It was six o’clock. I found the sea gray but calm. I inhaled the sea’s salty aroma with great pleasure.I hoped to encounter Captain Nemo there—would he come?

Little by little, the mists were dispersed under the action of the sun’s rays. The radiant orb cleared the eastern horizon. I was marveling at this delightful sunrise, so life-giving and cheerful, when I heard someone climbing onto the platform.

I was prepared to greet Captain Nemo, but it was his chief officer who appeared—whom I had already met during our first visit with the captain. He advanced over the platform. He scrutinized every point of the horizon with the utmost care. Then he pronounced a phrase. I remember it because, every morning, it was repeated under the same circumstances:

“Nautron respoc lorni virch.”

What it meant I was unable to say.

Then the chief officer went below again. I went down the hatch and back through the gangways to my stateroom.

Five days passed in this way with no change in our situation. Every morning I climbed onto the platform. The same phrase was pronounced by the same individual. Captain Nemo did not appear.

On November 16, I found a note addressed to me on the table. I opened it impatiently:

“A hunting trip!” Ned exclaimed.

“And in his forests on Crespo Island!” Conseil added.

“But does this mean he goes ashore?” Ned Land went on. “Well, we’ve got to accept! Once we’re on solid ground, we’ll figure out a course of action.”

“First let’s look into this Crespo Island!” I replied.

I consulted the world map; and I found an islet, which old Spanish charts called Rocca de la Plata, in other words, “Silver Rock.” It is a small rock in the middle of the north Pacific.

“If Captain Nemo sometimes goes ashore,” I said, “he picks desert islands!”

Ned Land shook his head without replying; then he and Conseil left me. After supper, I fell asleep.

This cell, properly speaking, was the Nautilus’s arsenal and wardrobe. Hanging from its walls, a dozen diving outfits[29] were waiting for anybody who wanted to take a stroll.

After seeing these, Ned Land exhibited an obvious distaste for the idea of putting one on.

“But my gallant Ned,” I told him, “the forests of Crespo Island are simply underwater forests!”

“Oh great!” said the disappointed harpooner. “And is Conseil going to hunt?”

“Where master goes, I go,” Conseil replied.

Two crewmen came to help us put on these heavy, waterproof clothes. They were like suits of armor that were both yielding and resistant. These clothes consisted of jacket and pants. The fabric of the jacket was reinforced with copper that shielded the chest, protected it from the water’s pressure, and allowed the lungs to function freely; the sleeves ended in supple gloves that didn’t impede hand movements.

Conseil and I were soon dressed in these diving suits, as were Captain Nemo and one of his companions.

“Captain Nemo,” I said, “How will we reach the bottom of the sea?”

“Right now, professor, the Nautilus is aground in ten meters of water, and we’ve only to depart.”

Captain Nemo inserted his head into the spherical gear. Conseil and I did the same, but not without hearing the Canadian toss us a sarcastic “happy hunting.” I was ready to go forth. But, while imprisoned in these heavy clothes, it was impossible for me to take a single step.

I felt myself propelled into a little room adjoining the wardrobe. My companions went with me. I heard a door close after us, and we were surrounded by profound darkness. A second door then opened. Our feet touched the bottom of the sea.

How can I describe this stroll under the waters? Words are powerless to describe such wonders! Captain Nemo walked in front, and his companion followed us. Conseil and I stayed next to each other. I no longer felt the bulkiness of my clothes, footwear, and air tank, nor the weight of the heavy sphere inside which my head was rattling. Once immersed in water, all these objects lost a part of their weight equal to the weight of the liquid they displaced. I was no longer an inert mass, and I had great freedom of movement.

Lighting up the seafloor even thirty feet beneath the surface of the ocean, the sun astonished me with its power. I could easily distinguish objects 100 meters away. Above me I could see the calm surface of the ocean.

We were walking on sand. This dazzling carpet was a real mirror.

The vast plains of sand seemed endless. Soon the forms of some objects took shape before my eyes. I recognized the lower slopes of magnificent rocks.

By then it was ten o’clock in the morning. The sun’s rays came in contact with flowers, rocks, buds, seashells, and polyps: a genuine kaleidoscope of red, green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue!

We had been gone from the Nautilus for about an hour and a half. It was almost noon. The magic of solar colors disappeared little by little. We walked with steady steps. We reached a depth of 100 meters, by which point we were undergoing a pressure of ten atmospheres. But I did not suffer from this pressure. I felt only a certain tightness in the joints of my fingers, and even this discomfort soon disappeared. Helped by the water, my movements were executed with ease.

Arriving at this 300-foot depth, I still detected the sun’s rays, but just barely. But we could see well enough to find our way.

Just then Captain Nemo stopped. He waited until I joined him, then he pointed a finger at some dark masses outlined in the shadows a short distance away.

“It’s the forest of Crespo Island,” I thought; and I was not mistaken.

We had finally arrived on the outskirts of this forest. It was made up of big treelike plants. None of the weeds carpeting, none of the branches crept, or leaned, or stretched on a horizontal plane. They all rose right up toward the surface of the ocean. I observed that all these plants had no roots.

I soon grew accustomed to this bizarre arrangement, likewise to the comparative darkness surrounding us. Flora and fauna are so closely associated in the underwater world!

Near one o’clock, Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt. This short break was a delight. It lacked only the charm of conversation. But it was impossible to speak, impossible to reply. After four hours of strolling, I was quite astonished not to feel any intense hunger. What kept my stomach in such a good mood I’m unable to say. But I experienced that irresistible desire for sleep that comes over every diver. My eyes soon closed behind their heavy glass windows and I fell into an uncontrollable doze.

When I awoke, Captain Nemo was already up. A few paces away, a monstrous, meter-high sea spider was staring at me with beady eyes, poised to spring at me. Although my diving suit was heavy enough to protect me from this animal’s bites, I was in horror. Just then Conseil woke up, together with the Nautilus’s sailor. Captain Nemo alerted his companion to this hideous spider, which a swing of the rifle butt quickly brought down, and I watched the monster’s horrible legs writhing in dreadful convulsions.

Suddenly I saw the glow of an intense white light. Captain Nemo had just activated his electric device. His companion did likewise. Conseil and I followed the example. The sea, lit up by our four lanterns, was illuminated for a radius of twenty-five meters.

Captain Nemo went through the forest, whose shrubbery grew ever more sparse. I observed that vegetable life was disappearing more quickly than animal life.

Finally, at around four o’clock, this marvelous excursion came to an end. A wall of rocks stood before us: a pile of gigantic stone blocks. This was land.

The captain stopped suddenly. I had to stop. Here ended the domains of Captain Nemo. He had no desire to pass beyond them.

Our return journey began. I noted that we didn’t follow the same path in returning to the Nautilus. This new route, very steep and hence very arduous, quickly took us close to the surface of the sea. At a depth of ten meters, we walked amid a swarm of small fish from every species, more numerous than birds in the air, but no aquatic game worthy of a gunshot had yet been offered to our eyes.

Just then I saw the captain’s weapon spring to his shoulder. A shot went off, and an animal dropped a few paces away. It was a magnificent sea otter. One and a half meters long, this otter had to be worth a good high price. Its coat, brown above and silver below, would have made one of those wonderful fur pieces so much in demand in the Russian and Chinese markets; it would go for at least 2,000 francs. Captain Nemo’s companion picked up the animal, loaded it on his shoulder, and we continued our way again.

In all honesty, I was dead tired, cutting through the darkness of the waters. Within twenty minutes we would be on board, and there I could breathe easy again.

I was lagging behind some twenty paces when I saw Captain Nemo suddenly come back toward me. When I raised my head I saw two enormous masses.

My blood turned cold in my veins! I saw that we were under threat from a fearsome pair of sharks. They were blue sharks, dreadful man-eaters with enormous tails. I looked at their silver bellies, their fearsome mouths with teeth.

Luckily these voracious animals have poor eyesight. They went by without noticing us.

Half an hour later we reached the Nautilus. The outside door had been left open, and Captain Nemo closed it after we reentered the first cell. Then he pressed a button. I heard pumps operating within the ship. The inside door opened, and we passed into the wardrobe.

There our diving suits were removed, not without difficulty; and went repaired to my stateroom, full of wonder at this startling excursion on the bottom of the sea.

By the next morning, November 18, I was fully recovered from my exhaustion of the day before, and I climbed onto the platform just as the Nautilus’s chief officer was pronouncing his daily phrase. It then occurred to me that these words either referred to the state of the sea, or that they meant: “There’s nothing in sight.”

And in truth, the ocean was deserted. Not a sail on the horizon. The tips of Crespo Island had disappeared during the night.

I was marveling at this magnificent ocean view when Captain Nemo appeared. He didn’t seem to notice my presence and began a series of astronomical observations. Then he went and leaned his elbows on the beacon housing[30], his eyes straying over the surface of the ocean.

Meanwhile some twenty of the Nautilus’s sailors—all energetic, well-built fellows—climbed onto the platform. They had come to pull up the nets. These seamen obviously belonged to different nationalities, although indications of European physical traits could be seen in them all. If I’m not mistaken, I recognized some Irishmen, some Frenchmen, a few Slavs, and a native of either Greece or Crete. These men used among themselves only that bizarre dialect whose origin I couldn’t even guess.

I estimate that this cast of the net brought in more than 1,000 pounds of fish. It was a fine catch but not surprising. Captain Nemo turned to me and said without further preamble:

“Look at this ocean, professor! Isn’t it alive? Last evening it went to sleep just as we did, and there it is, waking up after a peaceful night!”

No hellos or good mornings! This eccentric man was simply continuing a conversation we’d already started!

“See!” he went on. “It’s waking up under the sun’s caresses! What a fascinating field of study lies in watching the play of its organism.”

I’m sure that Captain Nemo expected no replies from me. He was simply talking to himself, with long pauses between sentences. He was meditating out loud.

Then Captain Nemo headed to the hatch and disappeared down the ladder. I followed him and went back to the main lounge.

Days and weeks passed, I saw Captain Nemo only at rare intervals. Almost every day the panels in the lounge were open for some hours, and our eyes saw the mysteries of the underwater world.

During the day of December 11, I was busy reading in the main lounge. Ned Land and Conseil were observing the luminous waters through the gaping panels. The Nautilus was motionless. Suddenly Conseil interrupted my reading.

“Would master kindly come here for an instant?” he said to me in an odd voice.

“What is it, Conseil?”

“It’s something that master should see.”

I stood up, went, leaned on my elbows before the window, and I saw it.

In the broad electric daylight, I saw an enormous black mass. I observed it carefully, trying to find out the nature of this gigantic cetacean. Then a sudden thought crossed my mind.

“A ship!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” the Canadian replied, “a disabled craft that’s sinking straight down!”

Ned Land was not mistaken. A sorry sight, this carcass lost under the waves, but sorrier still was the sight on its deck some human corpses still lay! I counted four of them—four men, then a woman, holding a child in her arms.

What a scene! We stood dumbstruck, hearts pounding, before this shipwreck. And already I could see enormous sharks moving in, drawn by the lure of human flesh!

Meanwhile, turning, the Nautilus made a circle around the sinking ship, and for an instant I could read the board on its stern: The Florida Sunderland, England.

On January 4, we raised the coast of Papua. On this occasion Captain Nemo told me that he intended to reach the Indian Ocean via the Torres Strait[31]. Ned saw with pleasure that this course would bring us closer to the European seas.

The Torres Strait is regarded as dangerous for its reefs. So the Nautilus hove before the entrance to the world’s most dangerous strait, a passageway that even the boldest navigators hesitated to clear. It is about thirty-four leagues wide, but it’s obstructed by an incalculable number of islands, islets, and rocks that make it nearly impossible to navigate.

Around the Nautilus the sea was boiling furiously.

“That’s one rough sea!” Ned Land told me.

“Abominable indeed,” I replied, “and hardly suitable for a craft like the Nautilus.”

“That damned captain,” the Canadian went on, “must really be sure of his course!”

The situation was indeed dangerous, but as if by magic, the boat seemed to glide right down the middle of rampaging reefs.

But a sudden jolt threw me down. The Nautilus had just struck a reef, and it remained motionless.

When I stood up, I saw Captain Nemo and his chief officer on the platform. They were examining the ship’s circumstances, exchanging a few words in their incomprehensible dialect.

“An accident?” I asked Captain Nemo.

“No, an incident,” he answered me.

“But an incident,” I replied, “that may oblige you to become a resident again of these shores you avoid!”

Captain Nemo gave me an odd look and gestured no. Then he said:

“No, Professor Aronnax, the Nautilus will still carry you through the midst of the ocean’s wonders. Our voyage is just beginning, and I’ve no desire to deprive myself so soon of the pleasure of your company.”

This said, Captain Nemo went back inside the ship, followed by his chief officer.

“Well, sir?” Ned Land said to me, coming up after the captain’s departure.

“Well, Ned my friend, we’ll serenely wait for the tide.”

The Canadian shrugged his shoulders. The seaman in him was talking now.

“Sir,” he answered, “you can trust me when I say this hunk of iron will never navigate again, on the seas or under them. It’s only fit to be sold for its weight. So I think it’s time to leave Captain Nemo.”

“Ned is right,” Conseil said, “Couldn’t master persuade his friend Captain Nemo to send the three of us ashore?”

“I can ask him,” I replied, “but he’ll refuse.”

“Let master take the risk,” Conseil said.

Much to my surprise, Captain Nemo gave me the permission I asked for, and he did so with grace and alacrity, not even asking my promise to return on board.

The next day, January 5, the skiff was wrenched from its socket and launched to sea from the top of the platform. The oars were inside the longboat and we had only to take our seats.

At eight o’clock, armed with rifles and axes, we left the Nautilus. The sea was fairly calm. A mild breeze blew from shore. Conseil and I rowed vigorously.

Ned Land couldn’t conceal his glee. He was a prisoner escaping from prison.

“Meat!” he kept repeating. “Now we’ll eat red meat!”

Ned Land tested the soil with his foot. Yet it had been only two months since we had become, as Captain Nemo expressed it, “passengers on the Nautilus,” in other words, the literal prisoners of its commander.

The entire horizon was hidden behind a curtain of wonderful forests. Enormous trees, sometimes as high as 200 feet, were linked to each other by garlands of tropical creepers. The Canadian spotted a coconut palm, beat down some of its fruit, broke them open, and we drank their milk and ate their meat.

“Excellent!” Ned Land said.

“Exquisite!” Conseil replied.

“And I don’t think,” the Canadian said, “that your Nemo would object to us bringing some coconuts aboard his vessel?”

“I imagine not,” I replied, “but he won’t try them.”

“Too bad for him!” Conseil said.

“And plenty good for us!” Ned Land shot back.

“A word of caution, Mr. Land,” I told the harpooner. “Coconuts are admirable things, but it would be wise to find out whether this island offers other things just as useful, for example, some fresh vegetables.”

“Master is right,” Conseil replied, “and I propose that we set aside three places in our longboat: one for fruit, another for vegetables, and a third for venison.”

“So let’s continue our excursion,” I went on, “but keep a sharp lookout!”

“Ha!” Ned put in, with a meaningful movement of his jaws. “I’m starting to appreciate the charms of cannibalism!”

“Ned, Ned! Don’t say that!” Conseil answered. “You a cannibal? Why, I’ll no longer be safe next to you, and I share your cabin! Does this mean I’ll wake up half devoured one fine day?”

“I’m awfully fond of you, Conseil my friend, but not enough to eat you when there’s better food around. We need some fruit, or at least some vegetables.”

“Then let’s look for fruit and vegetables.”

“And we mustn’t wander too far off,” Conseil added. “That’s why I propose that we return to the skiff.”

“What! Already!” Ned exclaimed.

“We ought to be back before nightfall,” I said.

“But what hour is it, then?” the Canadian asked.

“Two o’clock at least,” Conseil replied.

“How time flies on solid ground!” exclaimed Mr. Ned Land with a sigh of regret.

“Off we go!” Conseil replied.

We returned through the forest, and we were overloaded when we arrived at the skiff. We left the island beach and half an hour later pulled alongside the Nautilus. Nobody appeared on our arrival. The enormous sheet-iron cylinder seemed deserted. I went below to my stateroom. There I found my supper ready. I ate and then fell asleep.

The next day, January 6, nothing new happened on board. Not a sound inside, not a sign of life. The skiff stayed alongside in the same place we had left it. We decided to return to the island. Ned Land wanted to visit a different part of the forest.

Ned Land went westward up the coast; then he reached open plains that were bordered by wonderful forests.

We were satisfied with the results of our hunting. By six o’clock in the evening, we were back on the beach. The skiff was aground in its usual place. The Nautilus, looking like a long reef, emerged from the waves two miles offshore.

In short, dinner was excellent.

“What if we don’t return to the Nautilus this evening?” Conseil said.

“What if we never return to it?” Ned Land added.

Just then a stone whizzed toward us and landed at our feet.

We stared in the direction of the forest.

“Stones don’t fall from the sky,” Conseil said, “or else they deserve to be called meteorites.”

A second well-polished stone removed a tasty ringdove leg from Conseil’s hand. We all three stood up, rifles to our shoulders, ready to answer any attack.

“Apes maybe?” Ned Land exclaimed.

“Nearly,” Conseil replied. “Savages.”

“Head for the skiff!” I said, moving toward the sea.

Indeed, some twenty natives, armed with bows and slings, appeared barely a hundred paces off. The savages approached without running. It was raining stones and arrows.

Ned Land, despite the impending danger, clutched his pig on one side, his kangaroos on the other, and ran with respectable speed.

In two minutes we were on the strand. Loading provisions and weapons into the skiff, pushing it to sea, were the work of an instant. A hundred savages, howling and gesticulating, entered the water up to their waists. I looked at the Nautilus. Lying well out, that enormous machine still seemed completely deserted.

Twenty minutes later we boarded ship. The hatches were open. We reentered the Nautilus’s interior.

I went below to the lounge. Captain Nemo was there, leaning over the organ, deep in a musical trance.

“Captain!” I said to him.

He didn’t hear me.

“Captain!” I went on, touching him with my hand.

He trembled, and turning around:

“Ah, it’s you, professor!” he said to me. “Well, did you have a happy hunt?”

“Yes, captain,” I replied, “but unfortunately we’ve brought back a horde of savages whose proximity worries me.”

“Savages!” Captain Nemo replied in an ironic tone. “You’re surprised to find savages there? Where aren’t there savages? And besides, are they any worse than men elsewhere, these people you call savages?”

“But captain—”

“Speaking for myself, sir, I’ve encountered them everywhere.”

“Well then,” I replied, “if you don’t want to welcome them aboard the Nautilus, you’d better take some precautions! The natives are near.”

“How many?”

“At least a hundred.”

“Professor Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, whose fingers took their places again on the organ keys, “the Nautilus has nothing to fear from their attacks!”

The captain’s fingers then ran over the instrument’s keyboard, and I noticed that he touched only its black keys. Soon he had forgotten my presence and was lost in a reverie.

I climbed onto the platform. Night had already fallen. I could see the island only dimly. But numerous fires had been kindled on the beach: the natives had no thoughts of leaving it.

For several hours I was left to myself. The moon shone in the midst of the constellations at their zenith. Near midnight I went to my cabin and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The following day, January 10, the Nautilus resumed its travels at a remarkable speed that I estimated to be at least thirty-five miles per hour. The propeller was going so fast I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. I thought about how this marvelous electric force not only gave motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus but even protected it against outside attack.

During our voyage, Captain Nemo conducted interesting experiments on the different temperatures in various strata of the sea. Captain Nemo brought a real passion to his experiments. I often wondered why he took these observations. Were they for the benefit of the mankind? It was unlikely, because sooner or later his work would perish with him in some unknown sea! Unless he intended the results of his experiments for me. But that meant this strange voyage of mine would come to an end, and no such end was in sight.

Meanwhile Captain Nemo also introduced me to the different data he had obtained on the relative densities of the water in our globe’s chief seas.

On January 18 the Nautilus lay in longitude 105 degrees and latitude 15 degrees south. The weather was threatening, the sea rough.

I had climbed onto the platform. Out of habit I waited for him to pronounce his daily phrase. But that day it was replaced by a different phrase, just as incomprehensible. Almost at once I saw Captain Nemo appear, lift his spyglass, and inspect the horizon.

For some minutes the captain stood motionless. Then he lowered his spyglass and exchanged about ten words with his chief officer. The latter was excited. Captain Nemo remained cool. He strolled from one end of the platform to the other, not glancing at me, perhaps not even seeing me. His step was firm but less regular than usual. Sometimes he would stop, cross his arms over his chest, and observe the sea. What could he be looking for over that immense expanse? By then the Nautilus lay hundreds of miles from the nearest coast!

The chief officer kept lifting his spyglass and stubbornly examining the horizon, walking up and down. Captain Nemo gave orders to increase speed.

I went below to the lounge and brought back an excellent long-range telescope I habitually used. But no sooner had I peered into the eyepiece than the instrument was snatched from my hands.

I turned around. Captain Nemo was standing before me, but I almost didn’t recognize him. His facial features were transfigured. Gleaming with dark fire, his eyes had shrunk beneath his frowning brow. His teeth were half bared. His rigid body, clenched fists, and head drawn between his shoulders, all attested to a fierce hate breathing from every pore. He didn’t move. My spyglass fell from his hand and rolled at his feet.

Had I accidentally caused these symptoms of anger? Did this incomprehensible man think I had detected some secret forbidden to guests on the Nautilus?

No! I wasn’t the subject of his hate because he wasn’t even looking at me; his eyes stayed stubbornly focused on the inscrutable point of the horizon.

Finally Captain Nemo regained his self-control. His facial appearance, so profoundly changed, now resumed its usual calm. He addressed a few words to his chief officer in their strange language, then he turned to me:

“Professor Aronnax,” he told me in a tone of some urgency, “you and your companions must be placed in confinement until I set you free.”

“You’re in command,” I answered. “But may I address a question to you?”

“You may not, sir.”

I went below to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and I informed them of the captain’s decision. I’ll let the reader decide how this news was received by the Canadian. In any case, there was no time for explanations. Four crewmen were waiting at the door, and they led us to the cell where we had spent our first night aboard the Nautilus.

“Will master tell me what this means?” Conseil asked me.

I told my companions what had happened. They were astonished. Ned Land said:

“Well, look here! Lunch is served!”

Indeed, the table had been laid.

“Unfortunately,” Ned Land said, “they’ve only given us the standard menu.”

“Ned my friend,” Conseil answered, “what would you say if they’d given us no lunch at all?”

We sat down at the table. Our meal proceeded in silence. I ate very little. Then, when lunch over, each of us propped himself in a corner.

Just then the luminous globe lighting our cell went out, leaving us in profound darkness. Ned Land soon dozed off, and to my astonishment, Conseil also fell into a heavy slumber. I was wondering what could have caused this urgent need for sleep, when I felt sleepy as well. I tried to keep my eyes open, but they closed in spite of me.

I tried to fight off this drowsiness. It was impossible. My breathing grew weaker. My lids fell over my eyes. I couldn’t raise them. A morbid sleep, full of hallucinations, seized my whole being.

The next day I woke up with my head unusually clear. Much to my surprise, I was in my stateroom. No doubt my companions had been put back in their cabin without noticing it. We had no idea what took place during the night.

I then considered leaving my stateroom. Was I free or still a prisoner? I opened my door, headed down the gangways, and climbed the central companionway. I arrived on the platform.

Ned Land and Conseil were there waiting for me. I questioned them. They knew nothing. Lost in a heavy sleep of which they had no memory, they were quite startled to be back in their cabin.

As for the Nautilus, it seemed as tranquil and mysterious as ever. It was cruising on the surface of the waves at a moderate speed. Nothing seemed to have changed on board.

Ned Land observed the sea with his penetrating eyes. It was deserted. The Canadian sighted nothing new on the horizon, neither sail nor shore. A breeze was blowing noisily from the west.

As for Captain Nemo, he didn’t appear. Of the other men on board, I saw only my emotionless steward.

Near two o’clock I was busy in the lounge, when the captain opened the door and appeared. I bowed to him. He gave me a bow in return, without saying a word to me. I resumed my work, hoping he might give me some explanation of the previous afternoon’s events. He did nothing of the sort. I stared at him. His face looked exhausted. He walked up and down, sat and stood, picked up a book, discarded it immediately, consulted his instruments.

Finally he came over to me and said:

“Are you a physician, Professor Aronnax?”

This inquiry was so unexpected that I stared at him without replying.

“Are you a physician?” he repeated. “Several of your scientific colleagues took their degrees in medicine.”

“That’s right,” I said, “I am a doctor, I was in practice for several years before joining themuseum.”

“Excellent, sir.”

My reply obviously pleased Captain Nemo. But waited for further questions, ready to reply.

“Someone is sick?” I asked.

“Yes. A crewman.”

“I’m ready to go with you.”

“Come.”

Lord knows why, but I saw a definite connection between this sick crewman and yesterday’s happenings. Captain Nemo led me to the Nautilus’s stern and invited me into a cabin located next to the sailors’ quarters.

On a bed there lay a man some forty years old. I bent over him. Not only was he sick, he was wounded. His head was resting on a pillow.

It was a horrible wound. The cranium had been smashed open by some instrument, leaving the naked brains exposed. Both contusion and concussion of the brain had occurred. Cerebral inflammation was complete and had brought on a paralysis of movement and sensation.

I took the wounded man’s pulse. It was intermittent. I saw that death was approaching. After dressing the poor man’s wound, I turned to Captain Nemo.

“How did he get this wound?” I asked him.

“That’s not important,” the captain replied evasively. “The Nautilus suffered a collision that cracked one of the engine levers, and it struck this man. My chief officer was standing beside him. What’s your diagnosis of his condition?”

I hesitated to speak.

“You may talk freely,” the captain told me. “This man doesn’t understand French.”

I took a last look at the wounded man, then I replied:

“This man will be dead in two hours.”

“Nothing can save him?”

“Nothing.”

Captain Nemo clenched his fists, and tears slid from his eyes, which I had thought incapable of weeping.

“You may go, Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo told me.

I left the captain in the dying man’s cabin and I went to my stateroom, very moved by this scene. That night I slept poorly, and between my fitful dreams, I thought I heard a distant moaning, like a funeral dirge. Was it a prayer for the dead, murmured in that language I couldn’t understand?

The next morning I climbed on deck. Captain Nemo was already there. As soon as he saw me, he came over.

“Professor,” he said to me, “would it be convenient for you to make an underwater excursion today?”

“With my companions?” I asked.

“If they’re agreeable.”

“We’re yours to command, captain.”

“Then kindly put on your diving suits.”

I rejoined Ned Land and Conseil. I informed them of Captain Nemo’s proposition. Conseil was eager to accept, and this time the Canadian joined us.

It was eight o’clock in the morning. By 8:30 we were suited up for this new stroll and equipped with our two devices for lighting and breathing. The double door opened, and accompanied by Captain Nemo with a dozen crewmen following, we set foot on the firm seafloor where the Nautilus was resting, ten meters down.

This bottom was completely different from the one I had visited during my first excursion under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Here I saw no sand, no underwater prairies. It was the coral realm. After two hours of walking, we reached a depth of about 300 meters. It was an immense forest, huge mineral vegetation.

Meanwhile Captain Nemo stopped walking, and turning around, I saw the crewmen form a semicircle around their leader. Looking with greater care, I observed that four of them were carrying on their shoulders an object that was oblong in shape.

In the middle of the clearing, on a pedestal of roughly piled rocks, there stood a cross of coral.

At a signal from Captain Nemo, one of his men stepped forward and, a few feet from this cross, detached a mattock from his belt and began to dig a hole.

I finally understood! This clearing was a cemetery! Captain Nemo and his men had come to bury their companion in this place on the inaccessible ocean floor!

The hole grew longer, wider, and soon was deep enough to receive the body. Wrapped in white fabric, the body was lowered into its watery grave. Captain Nemo, arms crossed over his chest, knelt in a posture of prayer, as did all the friends of him. My two companions and I bowed reverently.

When this was done, Captain Nemo and his men stood up; then they all approached the grave, and extended their hands in a sign of final farewell.

Then the funeral party went back up the path to the Nautilus. By one o’clock we had returned.

After changing clothes, I climbed onto the platform. Captain Nemo rejoined me. I stood up and said to him:

“So, as I predicted, that man died during the night?”

“Yes, Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo replied.

“And now he rests in that coral cemetery?”

“Yes, forgotten by the world but not by us!”

And with a sudden gesture, the captain hid his face in his clenched fists. Then he added:

“There lies our peaceful cemetery, hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the waves!”

“At least, captain, your dead can sleep serenely there, out of the reach of sharks!”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Nemo replied solemnly, “of sharks and men!”

Now we begin the second part of this voyage under the seas. The first ended in that moving scene at the coral cemetery, which left a profound impression on my mind.

What was the mystery of that last afternoon when we were locked in prison and put to sleep? Surely, Captain Nemo wasn’t content simply to avoid humanity! His fearsome Nautilus served not only his quest for freedom.

Nothing binded us to Captain Nemo. He believed that escaping from the Nautilus was impossible. We were simply captives, prisoners. Although Ned Land had not given up all hope of recovering his freedom.

That day, January 21, 1868, I climbed onto the platform, lit a cigar, and watched the chief officer at work. It seemed obvious to me that this man didn’t understand French, because I made several remarks in a loud voice; but he remained mute and emotionless.

When the Nautilus was ready to resume its underwater travels, I went below again to the lounge. We enjoyed a highly satisfactory state of health. The diet on board agreed with us perfectly.

On the morning of the 24th, we raised Keeling Island[32]. The Nautilus cruised along a short distance off the shore of this desert island. Soon our course was set to the northwest, toward the tip of the Indian peninsula.

“Civilization!” Ned Land told me that day. “Much better than those Papuan Islands[33]! On this Indian shore, professor, there are roads and railways, English, French, and Hindu villages. Come on now, isn’t it time for our departure from Captain Nemo?”

“No, no, Ned,” I replied in a very firm tone. “The Nautilus is approaching populated areas. It’s going back toward Europe, let it take us there. After we arrive in home waters, we can do as we see fit.”

After leaving Keeling Island, our pace got generally slower. It also got more unpredictable, often taking us to great depths.

On January 25, the ocean being completely deserted, the Nautilus spent the day on the surface, churning the waves with its powerful propeller. I spent three-quarters of the day on the platform. I stared at the sea. Nothing on the horizon.

On January 28, the Nautilus returned at noon to the surface of the sea. I went looking in the library for a book about Ceylon[34]. Just then Captain Nemo and his chief officer appeared.

“The island of Ceylon,” the Captain said, “is famous for its pearl fisheries[35]. Would you be interested, Professor Aronnax, in visiting one of those fisheries?”

“Certainly, captain.”

“Fine. It’s easily done. I’ll give orders, and we’ll arrive there late tonight.”

The captain said a few words to his chief officer who went out immediately. Soon the Nautilus stayed at a depth of thirty feet.

“Captain,” I asked, “the fishermen are well paid, aren’t they?”

“Hardly, professor. In most places they earn only a penny for each oyster that has a pearl, and they bring up so many that have none!”

“Only one penny to those poor people who make their employers rich! That’s atrocious!”

“By the way, Professor Aronnax, you aren’t afraid of sharks, are you?”

“Sharks?” I exclaimed.

“Yes, sharks. We might hunt a shark or two. It’s a fascinating sport. So, professor, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Having said this in a carefree tone, Captain Nemo left the lounge.

Night fell. I went to bed. I slept pretty poorly. Sharks played a major role in my dreams.

The next day at four o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by the steward. I got up quickly, dressed, and went into the lounge.

Captain Nemo was waiting for me.

“Professor Aronnax,” he said to me, “are you ready to start?”

“I’m ready.”

“Kindly follow me.”

“What about my companions, captain?”

“They are waiting for us.”

“Aren’t we going to put on our diving suits?” I asked.

“Not yet. We’ll suit up just before we begin our underwater exploring.”

Captain Nemo took me to the central companionway whose steps led to the platform. Ned and Conseil were there. Oars in position, five of the Nautilus’s sailors were waiting for us aboard the skiff. The night was still dark. Layers of clouds cloaked the sky and left only a few stars in view.

Captain Nemo, Conseil, Ned Land, and I found seats in the stern of the skiff. The skiff headed southward. We were silent. What was Captain Nemo thinking?

Near 5:30 the first glimmers of light on the horizon defined the upper lines of the coast. Five miles separated it from us, and its beach merged with the misty waters. Between us and the shore, the sea was deserted. Not a boat, not a diver.

At six o’clock the day broke suddenly, with that speed unique to tropical regions. I could clearly see the shore, which had a few sparse trees here and there.

The skiff advanced toward Mannar Island[36]. Captain Nemo stood up from his thwart and studied the sea. At his signal the anchor was lowered.

“Here we are, Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo then said. “You observe this confined bay? A month from now in this very place, the numerous fishing boats of the harvesters will gather. This bay is sheltered from the strongest winds, and the sea is never very turbulent here, highly favorable conditions for diving work. Now let’s put on our underwater suits, and we’ll begin our stroll.”

I didn’t reply, and I began to put on my heavy aquatic clothes, helped by the longboat’s sailors. None of the Nautilus’s men were to go with us on this new excursion. I had one question left to address to Captain Nemo.

“What about our weapons?” I asked him. “Our rifles?”

“Rifles! What for? Don’t some men attack bears dagger in hand? And isn’t steel surer than lead? Here’s a sturdy blade. Slip it under your belt and let’s be off.”

An instant later, the longboat’s sailors helped us overboard one after the other, and we set foot on level sand in a meter and a half of water. Captain Nemo gave us a hand signal. We followed him down a gentle slope and disappeared under the waves.

There the fears in my brain left me. I became surprisingly calm again. After ten minutes of walking, we were in five meters of water, and the terrain had become almost flat.

Near seven o’clock we came to the bank of shellfish, where pearl oysters reproduce by the millions. Captain Nemo pointed to this prodigious heap of shellfish, and I saw that these mines were genuinely inexhaustible.

But we couldn’t stop. We had to follow the captain. A huge cave opened up in our path, hollowed from a picturesque pile of rocks.

Captain Nemo went in. We followed him. My eyes soon grew accustomed to the gloom. Why had our incomprehensible guide taken us into the depths of this underwater crypt?

There Captain Nemo stopped, and his hand indicated an object that I hadn’t yet noticed.

It was an oyster of extraordinary dimensions, a titanic giant clam, a basin more than two meters wide. I approached this phenomenal mollusk. I estimated the weight of this giant clam at 300 kilograms.

The mollusk’s two valves were partly open. The captain approached and stuck his dagger vertically between the shells; then with his hands he raised the fringed tunic.

There I saw a loose pearl as big as a coconut. Its globular shape, perfect clarity, and wonderful orient made it a jewel of incalculable value. I stretched out my hand to take it, weigh it, fondle it! But the captain stopped me, removed his dagger in one swift motion, and let the two valves snap shut.

I then understood Captain Nemo’s intent. By leaving the pearl buried beneath the giant clam’s mantle, he allowed it to grow imperceptibly. With each passing year the mollusk’s secretions added new concentric layers. The captain alone was familiar with the cave where this wonderful fruit of nature was “ripening”. I estimated that it was worth at least 10,000,000 francs.

Our visit to this opulent giant clam came to an end. Captain Nemo left the cave, and we climbed back up the bank of shellfish in the midst of these clear waters.

Ten minutes later, Captain Nemo stopped suddenly. I looked carefully. Five meters away a shadow appeared and dropped to the seafloor. The idea of sharks crossed my mind. But I was mistaken.

It was a man, a living man, a black Indian fisherman. He would dive and go back up in quick succession. Arriving on the seafloor at a depth of about five meters, he fell to his knees and stuffed his sack with shellfish gathered at random. Then he went back up, emptied his sack, and started all over again, the whole process lasting only thirty seconds.

This diver didn’t see us. He went up and down several times. And how many of these oysters for which he risked his life would have no pearl in them!

I observed him with great care. I saw him make a frightened gesture, stand, and gather himself to spring back to the surface of the waves.

I understood his fear. A gigantic shadow appeared above the poor diver. It was a shark of huge size, moving in diagonally, jaws wide open!

I was speechless with horror, unable to make a single movement.

The voracious animal shot toward the Indian, who jumped aside and avoided the shark’s bite but not the thrashing of its tail, because that tail struck him across the chest.

This scene lasted barely a few seconds. The shark returned, rolled over on its back, and was getting ready to cut the Indian in half, when Captain Nemo suddenly stood up. Then he strode right toward the monster, dagger in hand, ready to fight it.

When the shark rushed at him, the captain leaped aside with prodigious quickness, avoided a collision, and sank his dagger into its belly. A dreadful battle began. Blood was pouring into the waves from the shark’s wounds. The sea was dyed red, and I could see nothing.

The captain was fighting the monster. I wanted to run to the captain’s rescue. But I was transfixed with horror, unable to move.

I stared, wild-eyed. I saw the fight enter a new phase. The captain fell to the seafloor. Then the shark’s jaws opened astoundingly wide. Ned Land, quick as thought, rushed forward with his harpoon and driven its dreadful point into the shark’s underside.

Ned Land hadn’t missed his target. This was the monster’s death rattle. The captain stood up, went right to the Indian, took the fellow in his arms, and rose to the surface of the sea.

The three of us followed him, and a few moments later we reached the fisherman’s longboat.

Captain Nemo’s first concern was to revive this unfortunate man. Fortunately, after vigorous massaging by Conseil and the captain, I saw the nearly drowned man regain consciousness little by little. He opened his eyes. Captain Nemo pulled a bag of pearls from a pocket in his diving suit and placed it in the fisherman’s hands. This magnificent gift was accepted with trembling hands.

At the captain’s signal we returned to the bank of shellfish, and we walked for half an hour until we encountered the anchor connecting the seafloor with the Nautilus’s skiff.

Captain Nemo’s first words were spoken to the Canadian.

“Thank you, Mr. Land,” he told him.

“Don’t mention it, captain,” Ned Land replied. “I owed it to you.”

A smile glided across the captain’s lips, and that was all.

“To the Nautilus,” he said.

By 8:30 we were back on board.

During the day of January 29, the island of Ceylon disappeared below the horizon. The next day, January 30, when the Nautilus rose to the surface of the ocean, there was no more land in sight. The ship headed toward the Persian Gulf[37].

This was obviously a blind alley with no possible outlet. So where was Captain Nemo taking us? I was unable to say. Which didn’t satisfy the Canadian, who that day asked me where we were going.

“We’re going, Mr. Ned, where the captain’s fancy takes us.”

“His fancy,” the Canadian replied, “won’t take us very far. The Persian Gulf has no outlet, and if we enter those waters, it won’t be long before we return in our tracks. The Red Sea won’t be our way back to Europe.”

“But I didn’t say we’d return to Europe.”

“But don’t you realize, Professor Aronnax,” the Canadian replied, “that soon we’ll have been imprisoned for three whole months aboard this Nautilus?”

“No, Ned, I didn’t realize it, I don’t want to realize it, and I don’t keep track of every day and every hour.”

“But when will it be over?”

“In its time. Meanwhile there’s nothing we can do about it, and our discussions are futile. My gallant Ned, if you come and tell me, ‘A chance to escape is available to us,’ then I’ll discuss it with you. But that isn’t the case, and in all honesty, I don’t think Captain Nemo ever ventures into European seas.”

I was convinced that when Captain Nemo reached this Gulf, he would back out again; but I was mistaken, and much to my surprise, he did nothing of the sort.

The Red Sea, that great lake so famous in biblical traditions! 2,600 kilometers long with an average width of 240. How many delightful hours I spent looking at it through the lounge window! How many new specimens of underwater flora and fauna I marveled at beneath the light of our electric beacon!

On February 9 the Nautilus cruised in the widest part of the Red Sea. At noon that day Captain Nemo climbed onto the platform, where I happened to be. As soon as he saw me, he came over, graciously offered me a cigar, and said to me:

“Well, professor, are you pleased with this Red Sea? Have you seen enough of its hidden wonders, its fish, its gardens of sponges and forests of coral?”

“Yes, Captain Nemo,” I replied, “and the Nautilus is wonderfully suited to this whole survey. Ah, it’s a clever boat!”

“Yes, sir, clever, daring, and invulnerable!”

“Indeed,” I said, “this sea is mentioned as one of the worst, and in the days of the ancients, if I’m not mistaken, it had an abominable reputation.”

“Thoroughly abominable, Professor Aronnax. The Greek and Latin historians claim that it is a sea subject to fearful hurricanes, and ‘with nothing good to offer,’ either on its surface or in its depths.”

“But,” I answered, “those historians didn’t navigate aboard the Nautilus.”

“Indeed,” the captain replied with a smile. “Who knows whether we’ll see a second Nautilus within the next 100 years! Progress is slow, Professor Aronnax.”

“It’s true,” I replied. “Your ship is a century ahead of its time, perhaps several centuries. It would be most unfortunate if such a secret were to die with its inventor!”

Captain Nemo did not reply. After some minutes of silence he spoke again:

“We were discussing,” he said, “the views of ancient historians on the dangers of navigating this Red Sea?”

“True,” I replied. “But weren’t their fears exaggerated?”

“Yes and no, Professor Aronnax,” answered Captain Nemo. “To a modern ship conditions are no longer hazardous. Those early navigators venturing didn’t have necessary instruments, they went in the midst of currents they barely knew. Under such conditions, shipwrecks had to be numerous.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Unfortunately,” he went on, “I can’t take you through the Suez Canal[38], but the day after tomorrow we’re in the Mediterranean.”

“In the Mediterranean!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, professor. Does that amaze you?”

“What amazes me is thinking we’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh really? But what is it that startles you?”

“The thought of how fast the Nautilus will need to go, if it’s to circle around Africa, and lie in the open Mediterranean by the day after tomorrow.”

“And who says it will circle Africa, professor?”

“But unless the Nautilus navigates on dry land …”

“Or under it, Professor Aronnax.”

“Under it?”

“Surely,” Captain Nemo replied serenely. “Under that land.”

“What! There’s a passageway?”

“Yes, an underground passageway that I’ve named the Arabian Tunnel[39]. It starts below Suez.”

“And it’s by luck that you discovered this passageway?” I asked, more and more startled.

“Luck plus logic, professor, and logic even more than luck.”

“Captain, I can’t believe my ears.”

“Oh, sir! Not only does this passageway exist, but I’ve taken advantage of it on several occasions.”

“Is it indiscreet to ask how you discovered this tunnel?”

“Sir,” the captain answered me, “there can be no secrets between men who will never leave each other.”

I ignored this innuendo and waited for Captain Nemo’s explanation.

“Professor,” he told me, “the simple logic of the naturalist led me to discover this passageway, and I alone am familiar with it. I’d noted that in the Red Sea and the Mediterranean there exist a number of absolutely identical species of fish. So I thought: there is a connection between the two seas. I searched for it with my Nautilus, I discovered it, I ventured into it!”

The same day, I reported to Conseil and Ned Land that part of the conversation. When I told them we would be lying in Mediterranean waters within two days, Conseil clapped his hands, but the Canadian shrugged his shoulders.

“An underwater tunnel!” he exclaimed. “A connection between two seas! Who ever heard of such thing!”

“Ned my friend,” Conseil replied, “had you ever heard of the Nautilus? No, yet here it is! There are many things that you’ve never heard of.”

“We’ll soon see!” Ned Land answered, shaking his head. “After all, I’d like nothing better than to believe in your captain’s passageway.”

At 9:15 when our boat returned to the surface, I climbed onto the platform. I was quite impatient to see Captain Nemo’s tunnel, and wanted to breathe the fresh night air.

I turned and discovered the captain.

“It won’t be long,” he said. “before we reach the entrance to the tunnel.”

“It can’t be very easy to enter it.”

“No, sir. And now if you’ll kindly go below, Professor Aronnax, the Nautilus is about to sink beneath the waves, and it will only return to the surface after we’ve cleared the Arabian Tunnel.”

I followed Captain Nemo. The hatch closed, and the Nautilus sank some ten meters down.

Just as I was about to go to my stateroom, the captain stopped me.

“Professor,” he said to me, “would you like to go with me to the wheelhouse?”

“I was afraid to ask,” I replied.

“Come along, then.”

Captain Nemo led me to the central companionway. In midstair he opened a door, went along the upper gangways, and arrived at the wheelhouse, which stands at one end of the platform.

It was a cabin measuring six feet square. In the center stood an upright wheel. Set in the cabin’s walls were four deadlights, windows that enabled the man to see in every direction.

The cabin was dark; but my eyes soon grew accustomed to its darkness and I saw a muscular man whose hands rested on the pegs of the wheel.

“Now,” Captain Nemo said, “let’s look for our passageway.”

The captain pressed a metal button and at once the propeller slowed down significantly. At 10:15 Captain Nemo himself took the helm. Dark and deep, a wide gallery opened ahead of us. Strange rumblings were audible along our sides. It was the water of the Red Sea, hurled toward the Mediterranean by the tunnel’s slope. The Nautilus went with the torrent, as swift as an arrow.

At 10:35 Captain Nemo left the steering wheel and turned to me:

“The Mediterranean,” he told me.

At sunrise the next morning, February 12, the Nautilus rose to the surface of the waves.

I rushed onto the platform. Near seven o’clock Ned and Conseil joined me.

“Well, Mr. Naturalist,” the Canadian asked in a gently mocking tone, “and how about that Mediterranean?”

“We’re floating on its surface, Ned my friend.”

“What!” Conseil put in. “Last night …?”

“Yes, last night.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” the Canadian replied.

“And you’re in the wrong, Mr. Land,” I went on. “That coastline is the coast of Egypt.”

“Nonsense, sir,” answered the stubborn Canadian.

“But if master says so,” Conseil told him, “then so be it.”

“What’s more, Ned,” I said, “Captain Nemo himself steered the Nautilus through that narrow passageway.”

“You hear, Ned?” Conseil said.

The Canadian looked carefully.

“Correct,” he said. “You’re right, professor, and your captain’s a superman. We’re in the Mediterranean. Fine. So now let’s have a chat about our business, if you please, but in such a way that nobody overhears.”

“Now, Ned,” I said. “What have you to tell us?”

“What I’ve got to tell you is very simple,” the Canadian replied. “We’re in Europe, and I say we should leave this Nautilus.”

I confess that such discussions with the Canadian always baffled me. I didn’t want to restrict my companions’ freedom in any way, and yet I had no desire to leave Captain Nemo. Thanks to him and his submersible, I was finishing my undersea research by the day, and I was rewriting my book on the great ocean depths. Would I ever again have such an opportunity to observe the ocean’s wonders? Absolutely not!

“Ned my friend,” I said, “answer me honestly. Are you bored with this ship? Are you sorry that fate has cast you into Captain Nemo’s hands?”

The Canadian paused for a short while before replying. Then, crossing his arms:

“Honestly,” he said, “I’m not sorry about this voyage under the seas. I’ll be glad to have done it, but in order to have done it, it has to finish. That’s my feeling.”

“It will finish, Ned.”

“Where and when?”

“Where? I don’t know. When? I can’t say. Or, rather, I suppose it will be over when these seas have nothing more to teach us. Everything that begins in this world must inevitably come to an end.”

“I think as master does,” Conseil replied, “and it’s extremely possible that after crossing every sea on the globe, Captain Nemo will leave us somewhere.”

“Leave us somewhere?” the Canadian exclaimed. “You mean drive us out!”

“Let’s not exaggerate, Mr. Land,” I went on. “We have nothing to fear from the captain.”

“But what do you expect?” the Canadian asked.

“That we’ll encounter advantageous conditions for escaping.”

“God!” Ned Land said. “And where, Mr. Naturalist?”

“Perhaps here, perhaps in China. You know how quickly the Nautilus moves. It crosses oceans like swallows cross the air or express trains continents.”

“Professor Aronnax,” the Canadian replied, “your arguments are useless. You talk: ‘We’ll be here, we’ll be there!’ Me, I’m talking about right now: we are here, and we must take advantage of it! Sir, let’s suppose that by some impossibility, Captain Nemo offered your freedom to you this very day. Would you accept?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“And what does our friend Conseil think?” Ned Land asked.

“Your friend Conseil,” the fine lad replied serenely, “has nothing to say. Like his master, like his comrade Ned, he’s a bachelor. Neither wife, parents, nor children are waiting for him back home. He thinks like master, he speaks like master. Only two persons face each other here: master on one side, Ned Land on the other.”

“Then, sir,” Ned Land said, “we’ll have this discussion between just the two of us. I’ve talked, you’ve listened. What’s your reply?”

“Ned my friend,” I said, “here’s my reply. I think the most ordinary good sense would forbid Captain Nemo to set us free. On the other hand, good sense decrees that we take advantage of our first opportunity to leave the Nautilus.”

“Fine, Professor Aronnax, that’s wisely said.”

“But one proviso,” I said, “just one. The opportunity must be real. Our first attempt to escape must succeed, because we won’t get a second chance, and Captain Nemo will never forgive us.”

“Well said,” the Canadian replied. “If an opportunity comes up, we have to grab it.”

“Agreed. And now, Ned, will you tell me what you mean by an opportunity?”

“A cloudy night and a short distance of some European coast.”

“And you’ll try to get away by swimming?”

“Yes, if we’re close enough to shore and the ship’s afloat on the surface. No, if the ship’s navigating under the waters.”

“And in that event?”

“In that event I’ll try to use the skiff. I know how to handle it.”

“Fine, Ned. Wait for such an opportunity, but don’t forget, one mistake will finish us.”

“I won’t forget, sir.”

“And now, Ned, would you like to know my thinking on your plan?”

“Gladly, Professor Aronnax.”

“Well then, I think—and I don’t mean ‘I hope’—that your opportunity won’t ever arise.”

“Why not?”

“Because Captain Nemo understands that we want to be free, and he’ll keep on his guard.”

“I’m of master’s opinion,” Conseil said.

“We’ll soon see,” Ned Land replied, shaking his head with a determined expression.

“And now, Ned Land,” I added, “not another word on any of this. The day you’re ready, alert us and we’re with you.”

That’s how we ended this conversation. And, I must say, events seemed to confirm my forecasts, much to the Canadian’s despair. Usually Captain Nemo stayed in midwater and far from any coast.

One day, in the midst of the waters, a man appeared, a diver carrying a little leather bag at his belt. It was no corpse lost in the waves. It was a living man, swimming vigorously, sometimes disappearing to breathe at the surface, then instantly diving again.

I told Captain Nemo:

“A man! We must rescue him at all cost!”

The captain didn’t reply but went to lean against the window. The man drew near, and gluing his face to the panel, he stared at us.

To my deep astonishment, Captain Nemo gave him a signal. The diver answered with his hand, immediately swam up to the surface of the sea, and didn’t reappear.

“Don’t worry,” the captain told me. “That’s Nicolas[40]. He’s a famous diver! He lives in the sea more than on shore, going constantly from one island to another.”

“You know him, captain?”

“Why not, Professor Aronnax?”

This said, Captain Nemo went to a cabinet standing near the lounge’s left panel. Next to this cabinet I saw a chest bound with hoops of iron, its lid bearing a copper plaque that displayed the Nautilus’s monogram with its motto Mobilis in Mobili.

Just then, ignoring my presence, the captain opened this cabinet, a sort of safe that contained a large number of ingots.

They were gold ingots. And they represented an enormous sum of money. Where had this precious metal come from? What was the captain about to do with it?

I didn’t pronounce a word. Captain Nemo took out the ingots one by one and arranged them methodically inside the chest, filling it to the top. At which point I estimate that it held more than 1,000 kilograms of gold, in other words, close to 5,000,000 francs.

After securely fastening the chest, Captain Nemo wrote an address on its lid in characters that must have been modern Greek.

This done, the captain pressed a button. Four men appeared and, not without difficulty, pushed the chest out of the lounge.

Just then Captain Nemo turned to me:

“You were saying, professor?” he asked me.

“I wasn’t saying a thing, captain.”

“Then, sir, with your permission, I’ll bid you good evening.”

And with that, Captain Nemo left the lounge.

I reentered my stateroom, very puzzled, as you can imagine. I tried in vain to fall asleep. I kept searching for a relationship between the appearance of the diver and that chest filled with gold. Soon I sensed that the Nautilus was back on the surface of the water. Then I heard the sound of footsteps on the platform. I realized that the skiff was being detached and launched to sea. Then all sounds ceased.

Two hours later, the same noises were repeated. The longboat was readjusted into its socket, and the Nautilus plunged back beneath the waves.

So those millions had been delivered to their address. Who was the recipient of Captain Nemo’s gold?

The next day I related the night’s events to Conseil and the Canadian. My companions were as startled as I was.

“Where does he get those millions?” Ned Land asked.

To this no reply was possible.

The next day, February 16, the Nautilus left the Greek Islands behind.

It was obvious to me that this Mediterranean, pinned in the middle of those shores Captain Nemo wanted to avoid, gave him no pleasure. Its waves and breezes brought back too many memories, if not too many regrets. Here he no longer had the ease of movement and freedom of maneuver that the oceans allowed him, and his Nautilus felt cramped so close to the coasts of both Africa and Europe.

Accordingly, our speed was twenty-five miles (that is, twelve four-kilometer leagues) per hour. Needless to say, Ned Land had to give up his escape plans, much to his distress. He could hardly make use of the skiff. Leaving the Nautilus under these conditions would have been like jumping off a train racing at this speed. Moreover, to renew our air supply, the Nautilus rose to the surface of the waves only at night.

Inside the Mediterranean, then, I could view only the distant horizons. But Conseil and I were able to observe Mediterranean fish.

During the night of February 16-17, we entered the second Mediterranean basin, whose maximum depth we found at 3,000 meters. The Nautilus, driven downward by its propeller, descended to the lowest strata of this sea. On February 18, near three o’clock in the morning, it hove before the entrance to the Strait of Gibraltar[41].

There are two currents here: an upper current, that carries the ocean’s waters into the Mediterranean basin; then a lower countercurrent. The Nautilus took full advantage of this countercurrent. It advanced swiftly through this narrow passageway. For an instant I could glimpse the wonderful ruins of the Temple of Hercules, buried undersea, together with the flat island they stand on; and a few minutes later, we were floating on the waves of the Atlantic.

The Atlantic! A vast expanse of water whose surface area is 25,000,000 square miles, with a length of 9,000 miles and an average width of 2,700. A major sea nearly unknown to the ancients! Where were we heading now?

Our quick trip through the Mediterranean hadn’t allowed Ned to put his plans into execution, and he could barely conceal his disappointment. After the door to my stateroom was closed, he sat and stared at me silently.

“Ned my friend,” I told him, “I know how you feel, but you mustn’t blame yourself.”

Ned Land didn’t reply.

“Look here,” I went on, “as yet there’s no cause for despair. We’re going up the coast of Portugal. France and England aren’t far off, and there we’ll easily find refuge. We now know that Captain Nemo doesn’t avoid the seas of civilization, and in a few days I think we can safely take action.”

Ned Land stared at me still more intently and finally opened his lips:

“We’ll do it this evening,” he said.

I straightened suddenly.

“We agreed to wait for the right circumstances,” Ned Land went on. “Now we’ve got those circumstances. This evening we’ll be just a few miles off the coast of Spain. It’ll be cloudy tonight. The wind’s blowing toward shore. You gave me your promise, Professor Aronnax, and I’m counting on you.”

Since I didn’t say anything, the Canadian stood up and approached me:

“We’ll do it this evening at nine o’clock,” he said. “I’ve told Conseil. By that time Captain Nemo will be locked in his room and probably in bed. Neither the mechanics or the crewmen will be able to see us. Conseil and I will go to the central companionway. As for you, Professor Aronnax, you’ll stay in the library two steps away and wait for my signal. The oars, mast, and sail are in the skiff. I’ve even managed to stow some provisions inside. So everything’s ready. I’ll see you this evening.”

“The sea is rough,” I said.

“Yes,” the Canadian replied, “but we’ve got to risk it. Freedom is worth paying for. Besides, the longboat’s solidly built, and a few miles with the wind behind us is no big deal. By tomorrow, who knows if this ship won’t be 100 leagues out to sea? If circumstances are in our favor, between ten and eleven this evening we’ll be landing on some piece of solid ground, or we’ll be dead. So we’re in God’s hands, and I’ll see you this evening!”

This said, the Canadian withdrew. What could I tell him? Ned Land was right. These were near-ideal circumstances, and he was taking full advantage of them. Tomorrow, might not Captain Nemo take us far away from any shore?

Just then the Nautilus sank beneath the waves of the Atlantic.

I stayed in my stateroom. I wanted to avoid the captain, to hide from his eyes my agitation. What an agonizing day I spent, torn between my desire to regain my free will and my regret at abandoning this marvelous Nautilus, leaving my underwater research incomplete! How could I relinquish this ocean—“my own Atlantic,” as I liked to call it—without observing its lower strata! How painfully the hours passed!

Twice I went to the lounge. I wanted to consult the compass. I wanted to see if the Nautilus’s heading was actually taking us closer to the coast. But no. The ship was still in Portuguese waters. Heading north, it was cruising along the ocean’s beaches.

So I had to get ready to escape. My baggage wasn’t heavy. My notes, nothing more.

But where was Captain Nemo? I hadn’t seen him for a long time. I both desired and dreaded his presence. I listened for footsteps in the stateroom adjoining mine. Not a sound reached my ear.

Then I began to wonder if this man was even on board. I thought that Captain Nemo must have kept up some type of relationship with the shore. Did he himself never leave the Nautilus? What was he doing all the time? Was he instead involved in some secret activity?

This day seemed endless. The hours struck too slowly.

As usual, dinner was served me in my stateroom. Full of anxiety, I ate little. I left the table at seven o’clock. 120 minutes still separated me from the moment I was to rejoin Ned Land. My agitation increased. My pulse was throbbing violently. I couldn’t stand still. I walked up and down, hoping to calm my troubled mind with movement.

I wanted to see the lounge one last time. I went down the gangways and arrived at the museum where I had spent so many pleasant and productive hours. I stared at all its wealth, all its treasures, like a man on the eve of his eternal exile, a man departing to return no more. For so many days now, these natural wonders and artistic masterworks had been central to my life, and I was about to leave them behind forever. I wanted to look through the lounge window and into these Atlantic waters; but the panels were hermetically sealed.

Crossing through the lounge, I arrived at the door that opened into the captain’s stateroom. Much to my astonishment, this door was ajar. I instinctively recoiled. If Captain Nemo was in his stateroom, he might see me. But, not hearing any sounds, I approached. The stateroom was deserted. I pushed the door open. I took a few steps inside. Still the same austere, monastic appearance.

Just then my eye was caught by some pictures hanging on the wall, which I hadn’t noticed during my first visit. They were portraits of great men of history who had spent their lives in perpetual devotion to a great human ideal. What was the bond between these heroic souls and the soul of Captain Nemo? From this collection of portraits could I finally unravel the mystery of his existence? Was he a fighter for oppressed peoples, a liberator of enslaved races? Was he a hero of that dreadful civil war in America?

Suddenly the clock struck eight, and I rushed outside the stateroom.

I stayed in my stateroom. I dressed warmly: fishing boots, otter cap. I was ready. I was waiting. Only the propeller’s vibrations disturbed the deep silence reigning on board.

I left my stateroom and returned to the lounge. I opened the door leading to the library. The same solitude. I waited for Ned Land’s signal.

Suddenly I felt a mild jolt. I realized the Nautilus had come to rest on the ocean floor. My alarm increased. The Canadian’s signal hadn’t reached me. I wanted to urge Ned Land to postpone his attempt. I sensed that we were navigating under abnormal conditions.

Just then the door to the main lounge opened and Captain Nemo appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble:

“Ah, professor,” he said in an affable tone, “I’ve been looking for you. Do you know your Spanish history?”

I was silent.

“Well?” Captain Nemo went on. “Did you hear my question? Do you know the history of Spain?”

“Very little of it,” I replied.

“Have a seat,” the captain said, “and I’ll tell you about an unusual episode.”

The captain stretched out on a couch, and I mechanically took a seat near him.

“Professor,” he said, “listen carefully. This piece of history concerns you in one definite respect, because it will answer a question you’ve no doubt been unable to resolve.”

“I’m listening, captain,” I said, not knowing what my partner in this dialogue was driving at, and wondering if this incident related to our escape plans.

“Professor,” Captain Nemo went on, “In 1702, immense treasures went to the bottom. Look.”

The captain stood up and invited me to follow him. I did so. The lounge was dark, but the sea’s waves sparkled through the transparent windows.

Around the Nautilus for a half-mile radius, the waters seemed saturated with electric light. The sandy bottom was clear and bright. Dressed in diving suits, crewmen were busy clearing away half-rotted barrels and trunks in the midst of the dingy hulks of ships. Out of these trunks and kegs spilled ingots of gold and silver, cascades of jewels, pieces of eight. The sand was heaped with them. Then the sailors returned to the Nautilus and dropped off their burdens inside.

“Did you know, professor,” Captain Nemo asked me with a smile, “that the sea contained such wealth?”

“I know it’s estimated,” I replied, “that there are 2,000,000 metric tons of silver held in suspension in seawater.”

“Surely, I have only to pick up what other men have lost. Do you understand now that I’m rich?”

“I understand, captain. Nevertheless, these treasures are useless because mankind can’t get it.”

My words must have wounded Captain Nemo.

“No!” he replied. “Sir, what makes you assume this wealth goes to waste? Do you think I toil to gather this treasure out of selfishness? Who says I don’t put it to good use? Do you think I’m unaware of the suffering people and oppressed races living on this earth, poor people and victims? Don’t you understand …?”

Captain Nemo stopped on these last words, perhaps sorry that he had said too much. But I had guessed. He remained a human being! His heart still throbbed for suffering humanity. And now I knew where Captain Nemo had delivered those millions!

The next morning, February 19, I beheld the Canadian entering my stateroom. I was expecting this visit.

“Well, sir?” he said to me.

“Well, Ned, the fates were against us yesterday.”

“Yes! That damned captain stopped just as we were going to escape from his boat.”

“Yes, Ned, he had business with his bank.”

“His bank?”

“By which I mean this ocean, where his wealth is safer than in any national treasury.”

I then related the evening’s incidents to the Canadian, secretly hoping he would come around to the idea of not deserting the captain.

“Anyhow,” he said, “my first harpoon missed, that’s all! We’ll succeed the next time, and as soon as this evening.”

“What’s the Nautilus’s heading?” I asked.

“I’ve no idea,” Ned replied.

“All right, at noon we’ll find out what our position is!”

I went into the lounge. The Nautilus’s course was south-southwest. We were turning our backs on Europe.

Near 11:30 the Nautilus rose to the surface of the ocean. I leaped onto the platform. Ned Land was already there.

No more shore in sight. Furious, Ned tried to see through the mists on the horizon. He still hoped that behind all that fog there lay shores.

Near eleven o’clock in the evening, I received a most unexpected visit from Captain Nemo. He asked me very graciously if I felt exhausted from our vigil the night before. I said no.

“Then, Professor Aronnax, I propose an unusual excursion. Would you like to see these depths on a dark night?”

“Very much.”

“I warn you, this will be an exhausting stroll. We’ll need to walk long hours and scale a mountain.”

“Everything you say, captain, just increases my curiosity. I’m ready to go with you.”

“Then come along, professor, and we’ll go put on our diving suits.”

Arriving at the wardrobe, I saw that neither my companions nor any crewmen would be coming with us on this excursion.

In a few moments we had put on our equipment. Air tanks were placed on our backs, but the electric lamps were not in readiness. I commented on this to the captain.

“They’ll be useless to us,” he replied.

I thought I hadn’t heard him right, but I couldn’t repeat my comment because the captain’s head had already disappeared into its metal covering.

Midnight was approaching. The waters were profoundly dark, but Captain Nemo pointed to a reddish spot in the distance, a sort of wide glow shimmering about two miles from the Nautilus. What this fire was, what substances fed it, I couldn’t say.

Side by side, Captain Nemo and I walked directly toward this conspicuous flame. Our progress was slow, because our feet kept sinking into a kind of slimy mud mixed with seaweed and assorted flat stones.

After half an hour of walking, the seafloor grew rocky. My feet often slipped. But Captain Nemo kept walking. I followed him boldly. 100 feet above our heads stood the mountain peak. We arrived at a preliminary plateau where many surprises were waiting for me. Picturesque ruins took shape, betraying the hand of man, not our Creator. They were huge stacks of stones in which you could distinguish the indistinct forms of palaces and temples.

Where was I, where had Captain Nemo’s fancies taken me? I wanted to ask him. I stopped him. I seized his arm. But he shook his head, pointed to the mountain’s topmost peak, and seemed to tell me:

“Come on! Come with me! Come higher!”

I followed him with my last burst of energy.

There the mountain crowned the receding bottom of this part of the Atlantic. My eyes scanned the distance and took in a vast area lit by intense flashes of light. In essence, this mountain was a volcano. A wide crater vomited torrents of lava. This volcano was an immense torch that lit up the lower plains all the way to the horizon.

This underwater crater spewed lava, but not flames. Flames need oxygen from the air and are unable to spread underwater.

In fact, there beneath my eyes was a town in ruins, demolished, overwhelmed, laid low, its roofs caved in, its temples pulled down, its arches dislocated, its columns stretching over the earth; in these ruins you could still detect the solid proportions of some architecture.

Where was I? I had to find out at all cost, I wanted to speak.

But Captain Nemo came over and stopped me with a gesture. Then, picking up a piece of chalky stone, he advanced to a black basaltic rock and scrawled this one word: ATLANTIS[42].

Atlantis, that ancient land of by the historians; Plato’s Atlantis; the continent whose very existence has been denied by philosophers and scientists, who entered its disappearance in the ledger of myths and folk tales! So this was the submerged region that had existed outside Europe and Asia, home of those powerful Atlantean people!

We stayed in this place an entire hour, contemplating its vast plains in the lava’s glow. Then the captain’s hand signaled me to follow him.

I could see the Nautilus’s beacon twinkling like a star. The captain walked straight toward it, and soon we were back on board.

The Nautilus didn’t change direction. We had to set aside any hope of returning to European seas. Where was Captain Nemo taking us? I was afraid to guess.

No unique incidents distinguished our voyage. I saw little of the captain. He was at work. In the library I often found books he had left open, especially books on natural history. Sometimes I heard melancholy sounds reverberating from the organ, which he played very expressively.

During this part of our voyage, we navigated on the surface of the waves for entire days. The sea was nearly deserted.

Where was the Nautilus going? To the pole? That was insanity.

The Canadian had said nothing more to me about his escape plans. He had become less sociable, almost sullen. I could feel the anger building in him.

That day, March 14, he and Conseil found me in my stateroom. I asked them the purpose of their visit.

“To put a simple question to you, sir,” the Canadian answered me.

“Go on, Ned.”

“How many men do you think are on board the Nautilus?”

“I’m unable to say, my friend. If I truly understand the captain’s way of life, his Nautilus isn’t simply a ship. It’s meant to be a refuge for people like its commander, people who have severed all ties with the shore.”

“Perhaps,” Conseil said, “but in a nutshell, the Nautilus can hold only a certain number of men, so couldn’t master estimate their maximum?”

“How, Conseil?”

“By calculating it. Master is familiar with the ship’s capacity, hence the amount of air it contains; on the other hand, master knows how much air each man consumes in the act of breathing, and he can compare this data with the fact that the Nautilus must rise to the surface every twenty-four hours …”

Conseil didn’t finish his sentence, but I could easily see what he was driving at.

“I understand,” I said. “But such calculations can give only a very uncertain figure.”

“No problem,” the Canadian went on insistently.

“The air contained in the Nautilus would be exactly enough for 625 men over twenty-four hours.”

“625!” Ned repeated.

“It is too many for three men!” Conseil muttered. “But Captain Nemo can’t go south forever! He’ll surely have to stop, if only at the Ice Bank, and he’ll return to the seas of civilization! Then it will be time to resume Ned Land’s plans.”

To be sure, the monotony of life on board must have seemed unbearable to the Canadian, who was accustomed to freedom and activity.

“But Ned my friend,” Conseil said, “why not ask Captain Nemo for permission to hunt …”

Before Conseil could finish his sentence, Ned Land ran to look for the captain. A few moments later, the two of them appeared.

“There are southern whales here,” Captain Nemo said.

“Well, sir,” the Canadian asked, “couldn’t I hunt them, just so I don’t forget my old harpooning trade?”

“Hunt them? What for?” Captain Nemo replied. “Simply to destroy them? We have no use for whale oil on this ship. It would be killing for the sake of killing. I don’t allow such murderous pastimes. These whales, Mr. Land, are decent, harmless creatures. So leave these poor cetaceans alone. They have quite enough natural enemies, such as sperm whales, swordfish, and sawfish.”

Ned Land whistled a song between his teeth, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and turned his back on us. From that day on, I noted that Ned Land’s attitudes toward Captain Nemo grew worse and worse.

The Nautilus went along the 50th meridian with considerable speed. Would it go to the pole? I didn’t think so, because every previous attempt to reach this spot on the globe had failed. But who knows …

On March 14 at latitude 55 degrees, I saw floating ice, plain pale bits of rubble twenty to twenty-five feet long, which formed reefs over which the sea burst into foam. The Nautilus stayed on the surface of the ocean. Having fished in the Arctic seas, Ned Land was already familiar with the sight of icebergs. Conseil and I were marveling at them for the first time.

During this navigating in the midst of the ice, Captain Nemo often stayed on the platform. He observed these deserted waterways carefully. I saw his calm eyes sometimes perk up. In these polar seas, did he feel right at home, the lord of these unreachable regions? Perhaps. But he didn’t say. He stood still.

On March 16 near eight o’clock in the morning, ice completely surrounded us and closed off the horizon. Nevertheless, Captain Nemo went from passageway to passageway, always proceeding south.

“But where’s he going?” I asked.

“Straight ahead,” Conseil replied. “Ultimately, when he can’t go any farther, he’ll stop.”

At last on March 18, after twenty futile assaults, the Nautilus stopped. It had to halt among tracts of ice.

“Sir,” Ned Land told me that day, “if your captain goes any farther…”

“Yes?”

“He’ll be a superman.”

“Why, Ned?”

“Because nobody can go through ice. Your captain’s a powerful man, but he isn’t more powerful than nature!”

I went to the captain. He was glad to see me:

“Well, professor! What do you think?”

“I think we’re trapped, captain.”

“Trapped! What do you mean?”

“I mean we can’t go forward, backward, or sideways.”

“So, Professor Aronnax, you think the Nautilus won’t be able to float clear?”

“Only with the greatest difficulty, captain.”

“Oh, professor,” Captain Nemo replied in an ironic tone, “you never change! You see only impediments and obstacles! I promise you, not only will the Nautilus float clear, it will go farther still!”

“Farther south?” I asked, looking at the captain.

“Yes, sir, it will go to the pole.”

“To the pole!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” the captain replied coolly, “the Antarctic pole, that unknown spot crossed by every meridian on the globe. As you know, I do whatever I like with my Nautilus.”

Yes, I knew that! But to overcome all the obstacles around the South Pole—even more unattainable than the North Pole—wasn’t this an absolutely insane undertaking, one that could occur only in the brain of a madman?

I asked Captain Nemo if he had already discovered this pole.

“No, sir,” he answered me, “but we’ll discover it together. Where others have failed, I’ll succeed. Never before has my Nautilus cruised so far into these southernmost seas, but I repeat: it will go farther still.”

“I’d like to believe you, captain,” I went on in a tone of some sarcasm. “Oh I believe you! Let’s forge ahead! There are no obstacles for us! Let’s shatter this ice! Or let’s fly over it!”

“Over it, professor?” Captain Nemo replied serenely. “No, not over it, but under it.”

“Under it!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, professor. For each foot of iceberg above the sea, there are three more below. Now then, since these ice mountains don’t exceed a height of 100 meters, they sink only to a depth of 300 meters. And what are 300 meters to the Nautilus?”

“A mere nothing, sir.”

“Our sole difficulty,” Captain Nemo went on, “lies in our staying submerged for several days without renewing our air supply.”

“That’s all?” I answered. “The Nautilus has huge air tanks; we’ll fill them up and they’ll supply all the oxygen we need.”

“Good thinking, Professor Aronnax,” the captain replied with a smile. “But if a sea exists at the South Pole, it’s possible this sea may be completely frozen over, so we couldn’t come up to the surface!”

Captain Nemo was right. But he didn’t waste an instant. At his signal, the chief officer appeared. The two men began to talk in their incomprehensible language.

The Nautilus’s powerful pumps forced air down into the tanks and stored it under high pressure. The Nautilus submerged without delay.

I took a seat in the lounge with Conseil. Through the open window we stared at the lower strata of this southernmost ocean. The Nautilus sank deeper still. It reached a depth of 800 meters. Now in open water, the ship took a direct course to the pole.

The next day, March 19, at five o’clock in the morning, I was back at my post in the lounge. The electric log indicated that the Nautilus had reduced speed.

We kept rising on a diagonal, going along the shiny surface. Mile after mile ice was growing thinner. Finally, at six o’clock, the lounge door opened. Captain Nemo appeared.

“Open sea!” he told me.

I rushed up onto the platform. Yes, open sea! Barely some moving icebergs; a sea stretching into the distance; hosts of birds in the air and myriads of fish under the waters. The thermometer marked 3 degrees centigrade.

“Are we at the pole?” I asked the captain.

“I’ve no idea,” he answered me. “At noon we’ll fix our position.”

“But will the sun show through this mist?” I said, staring at the grayish sky.

“No matter how faintly it shines, it will be enough for me,” the captain replied.

To the south, ten miles from the Nautilus, a solitary islet rose to a height of 200 meters. We proceeded toward it.

In an hour we had reached the islet. Two hours later we had completed a full circle around it. It measured four to five miles in circumference. The skiff was launched to sea. Two crewmen carrying instruments, the captain, Conseil, and I were on board. It was ten o’clock in the morning.

A few strokes of the oar brought the skiff to the sand, where it ran aground. Just as Conseil was about to jump ashore, I held him back.

“Sir,” I told Captain Nemo, “to you belongs the honor of first setting foot on this shore.”

He leaped lightly onto the sand. His heart must have been throbbing with intense excitement. He stood there, mute and motionless, with crossed arms and blazing eyes. After spending five minutes in this trance, he turned to us.

I got out, Conseil followed me, leaving the two men in the skiff.

The beach was strewn with mollusks. I also saw myriads of northernmost sea butterflies three centimeters long. The ground was completely riddled with penguin nests.

Meanwhile the mists didn’t clear, and by eleven o’clock the sun still hadn’t made an appearance. Its absence disturbed me. Without it, no sights were possible. Then how could we tell whether we had reached the pole?

Captain Nemo was leaning silently against a piece of rock and staring at the sky. He seemed impatient, baffled. But what could we do? This daring and powerful man couldn’t control the sun as he did the sea.

“Until tomorrow,” the captain said simply; and we went back to the Nautilus, amid flurries in the air.

The blizzard lasted until the next day. It was impossible to stay on the platform. The next day, March 20, it stopped snowing. The thermometer marked -2 degrees centigrade. The mist had cleared.

“The South Pole!” Captain Nemo replied in a solemn voice, handing me the spyglass, which showed the orb of day cut into two exactly equal parts by the horizon.

Then, resting his hand on my shoulder, Captain Nemo said to me:

“Well now! In 1868, on this 21st day of March, I myself, Captain Nemo, have reached the South Pole.”

The next day, March 22, at six o’clock in the morning, preparations for departure began. The cold was brisk. The wonderful Southern Cross, polar star of the Antarctic regions, twinkled at its zenith.

The thermometer marked -12 degrees centigrade. Ice floes were increasing over the open water. The ballast tanks filled with water and the Nautilus sank slowly. At a depth of 1,000 feet, it stopped. Its propeller churned the waves and it headed due north at a speed of fifteen miles per hour.

At three o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by a violent collision. I sat up in bed, listening in the darkness, and then was suddenly hurled into the middle of my stateroom. Apparently the Nautilus had gone aground.

Leaning against the walls, I dragged myself down the gangways to the lounge, whose ceiling lights were on. The furniture had been knocked over. Fortunately the glass cases were solidly secured at the base and had stood fast. But we were no longer vertical. So the Nautilus was lying on its starboard side.

In its interior I heard the sound of footsteps and muffled voices. But Captain Nemo didn’t appear. Just as I was about to leave the lounge, Ned Land and Conseil entered.

“What happened?” I instantly said to them.

“I came to ask master that,” Conseil replied.

“Damnation!” the Canadian exclaimed. “I know well what happened! The Nautilus has gone aground.”

“But,” I asked, “are we at least back on the surface of the sea?”

“We have no idea,” Conseil replied.

“It’s easy to find out,” I answered.

I consulted the pressure gauge. Much to my surprise, it indicated a depth of 360 meters.

“What’s the meaning of this?” I exclaimed.

“We must confer with Captain Nemo,” Conseil said.

“But where do we find him?” Ned Land asked.

“Follow me,” I told my two companions.

We left the lounge. Nobody in the library. Nobody by the central companionway or the crew’s quarters. I assumed that Captain Nemo was stationed in the pilothouse. Best to wait. The three of us returned to the lounge.

We had been left to ourselves for twenty minutes, trying to detect the tiniest noises inside the Nautilus, when Captain Nemo entered. He didn’t seem to see us. His facial features, usually so emotionless, revealed a certain uneasiness. He studied the compass and pressure gauge in silence, then went and put his finger on the world map at a spot in the sector depicting the southernmost seas.

I hesitated to interrupt him. But some moments later, when he turned to me, I asked:

“An incident, captain?”

“No, sir,” he replied, “this time an accident.”

“Serious?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is there any immediate danger?”

“No.”

“The Nautilus has run aground?”

“Yes.”

“May I learn, sir,” I asked him, “what caused this accident?”

“An enormous block of ice, an entire mountain,” he answered me.

“But can’t we float the Nautilus clear by emptying its ballast tanks, to regain our balance?”

“Sir, you can hear the pumps working.”

Suddenly a slight movement could be felt over the hull. Obviously the Nautilus was straightening a bit. Objects hanging in the lounge were visibly returning to their normal positions. The walls were approaching the vertical. Nobody said a word. We could see and feel the ship righting itself. The floor was becoming horizontal beneath our feet. Ten minutes went by.

“Finally, we’re upright!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” Captain Nemo said.

“But will we float off?” I asked him.

“Certainly,” he replied, “since the ballast tanks aren’t yet empty, and when they are, the Nautilus must rise to the surface of the sea.”

The captain went out, and soon the ship had halted its upward movement.

We were fully afloat, as I have said; but on both sides of the ship, about ten meters away, there rose dazzling walls of ice. There also were walls above and below. The Nautilus was imprisoned in a genuine tunnel of ice about twenty meters wide and filled with quiet water. So the ship could easily exit by going either ahead or astern, sinking a few hundred meters deeper, and then taking an open passageway beneath the ice.

The lounge was still brightly lit. This was due to the reflecting power of the walls of ice, which threw the beams right back at us. Words cannot describe the effects produced by our galvanic rays on these huge, whimsically sculpted blocks.

“How beautiful!” Conseil exclaimed.

“Yes,” I said, “it’s a wonderful sight! Isn’t it, Ned?”

“Oh damnation, yes!” Ned Land shot back. “It’s superb! But this sight could cost us dearly. And in all honesty, I think we’re looking at things God never intended for human eyes.”

Ned was right. It was too beautiful. All at once a yell from Conseil made me turn around.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Master must close his eyes! Master mustn’t look!”

With that, Conseil clapped his hands over his eyes.

“But what’s wrong, my boy?”

“I’ve been dazzled, struck blind!”

I realized what had happened. The Nautilus had just started off at great speed. The sparkles from myriads of diamonds were merging with each other. We were traveling through a sheath of flashing light.

It was five o’clock in the morning. Just then there was a collision in the Nautilus’s bow. Its spur had bumped a block of ice. The ship began to move backward.

“We’re going astern?” Conseil said.

“Yes,” I replied. “Apparently the tunnel has no way out at this end.”

“And so ..?”

“So,” I said, “our maneuvers are quite simple. We’ll return in our tracks and go out the southern opening. That’s all.”

The hours passed. I often studied the instruments hanging on the lounge wall. The pressure gauge indicated that the Nautilus stayed at a constant depth of 300 meters. At 8:25 a second collision took place. This time astern. I grew pale. Just then the captain entered the lounge. I went to him.

“Our path is barred to the south?” I asked him.

“Yes, sir. The iceberg closed off every exit.”

“We’re boxed in?”

“Yes.”

Consequently, above, below, and around the Nautilus, there were impenetrable frozen walls. We were the ice prisoners! The Canadian banged a table with his fearsome fist. Conseil kept still. I stared at the captain. He crossed his arms. He pondered. The Nautilus did not stir.

The captain then broke into speech:

“Gentlemen,” he said in a calm voice, “there are two ways of dying under the conditions in which we’re placed. The first way is death by crushing. The second is death by asphyxiation. I don’t mention the possibility of death by starvation because the Nautilus’s provisions will certainly last longer than we will.”

“As for asphyxiation, captain,” I replied, “that isn’t a cause for alarm, because the air tanks are full.”

“True,” Captain Nemo went on, “but they’ll supply air for only two days. Now then, we’ve been buried beneath the waters for thirty-six hours, and the Nautilus’s heavy atmosphere already needs renewing. In another forty-eight hours, our reserve air will be used up.”

“Well then, captain, let’s free ourselves within forty-eight hours!”

“We’ll try, by cutting through one of these walls surrounding us.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“I’m going to ground the Nautilus on the lower shelf, then my men will put on their diving suits and attack the thinnest of these ice walls.”

“My friends,” I said, “we’re in a serious predicament, but I’m counting on your courage and energy.”

“Sir,” the Canadian replied, “this is no time to bore you with my complaints. I’m ready to do anything I can for the common good.”

“Excellent, Ned,” I said, extending my hand to the Canadian.

“I might add,” he went on, “that if I can be helpful to the captain, he can use me any way he wants.”

I informed the captain of Ned’s proposition, which was promptly accepted. The Canadian got into his underwater costume.

After Ned was dressed, I reentered the lounge, whose windows had been uncovered; stationed next to Conseil, I examined the strata surrounding and supporting the Nautilus.

Captain Nemo bored into the lower surface. There we were separated from the sea by a ten-meter barrier. That’s how thick the iceberg was.

Work began immediately. After two hours of energetic work, Ned Land reentered, exhausted. He and his companions were replaced by new workmen, including Conseil and me. The Nautilus’s chief officer supervised us.

When I returned on board, I was asphyxiated by the carbon dioxide saturating the air. Oh, if only we had the chemical methods that would enable us to drive out this noxious gas! There was no lack of oxygen. But the carbon dioxide produced by our breathing permeated every part of the ship. To absorb it, we would need to fill containers with potassium hydroxide and shake them continually.

The next day, March 26, I returned to my miner’s trade, working to remove the ice. The walls and underbelly had visibly thickened. My pick nearly slipped from my hands. I felt like I was lying in the jaws of a fearsome monster.

Supervising our work, working himself, Captain Nemo passed near me just then. I touched him with my hand and pointed to the walls of our prison. The captain understood and gave me a signal to follow him. We returned on board. My diving suit removed, I went with him to the lounge.

“How long,” I asked, “will the oxygen in the air tanks enable us tobreathe on board?”

The captain looked me straight in the eye.

“After tomorrow,” he said, “the air tanks will be empty!”

I broke out in a cold sweat. Meanwhile, motionless and silent, Captain Nemo stood lost in thought. An idea visibly crossed his mind. At last these words escaped his lips:

“Boiling water!” he muttered.

“Boiling water?” I exclaimed.

“Yes, sir. Nautilus’s pumps must continually inject streams of boiling water into this space. This will raise its temperature and delay its freezing!”

“It’s worth trying!” I said resolutely.

“So let’s try it, professor.”

The next day I felt half suffocated. What a night! I’m unable to depict it. Such sufferings are indescribable. Headaches and dizziness made me feel like a drunk. My companions were experiencing the same symptoms.

That day, the sixth of our imprisonment, Captain Nemo concluded that picks and mattocks were too slow to deal with the ice layer still separating us from open water—and he decided to crush this layer.

The Nautilus sank into the waters like a cannonball. But how long would it take to navigate under the ice to the open sea? Another day? I would be dead first!

Half lying on a couch in the library, I was suffocating. My face was purple, my lips blue. I could no longer see or hear. I had lost all sense of time. My muscles had no power to contract. I realized that I was about to die.

Suddenly I regained consciousness. A few whiffs of air had entered my lungs. Had we risen to the surface of the waves?

No! Ned and Conseil, my two gallant friends, were sacrificing themselves to save me. A few atoms of air were still left in the device. Instead of breathing it themselves, they had saved it for me, and while they were suffocating, they poured life into me drop by drop! I tried to push the device away. They held my hands, and for a few moments I could breathe luxuriously.

It was eleven in the morning. It had to be March 28. The Nautilus was traveling at the frightful speed of forty miles per hour. It was writhing in the waters.

Where was Captain Nemo? Had he perished? Had his companions died with him?

Just then the pressure gauge indicated we were no more than twenty feet from the surface.

And the Nautilus crushed the ice beneath its weight!

The hatches were opened, and waves of clean air were admitted into every part of the ship.

How I got onto the platform I’m unable to say. Perhaps the Canadian transferred me there. But I could breathe, I could inhale the life-giving sea air. It was the breeze, the breeze itself!

“Ahhh!” Conseil was putting in. “What fine oxygen! Let master have no fears about breathing. There’s enough for everyone.”

Our strength returned promptly, and when I looked around, I saw that we were alone on the platform. No crewmen. Not even Captain Nemo. Those strange seamen on the Nautilus were content with the oxygen circulating inside. Not one of them had come up to enjoy the open air.

The first words I pronounced were words of appreciation and gratitude to my two companions. Ned and Conseil had kept me alive during the final hours.

“Oh, professor,” Ned Land answered me, “don’t mention it! It was a question of simple arithmetic. Your life is worth more than ours. So we had to save it.”

“No, Ned,” I replied, “it isn’t worth more. Nobody could be better than a kind and generous man like yourself!”

“All right, all right!” the Canadian repeated in embarrassment.

“And you, my gallant Conseil, you suffered a great deal.”

“Not too much, to be candid with master.”

“My friends,” I replied, “we’re bound to each other forever, and I’m deeply indebted to you—”

“Yes,” Ned Land said. “You can repay your debt by coming with me when I leave this infernal Nautilus.”

“By the way,” Conseil said, “are we going in a favorable direction?”

“Yes,” I replied, “because we’re going in the direction of the sun, and here the sun is due north.”

The next day, April 1, when the Nautilus rose to the surface of the waves a few minutes before noon, we raised land to the west. It was the Land of Fire[43], a name given it by early navigators after they saw numerous curls of smoke rising from the natives’ huts.

On April 11 we cut the Equator.

For some days the Nautilus kept veering away from the American coast. On April 16 we raised Guadalupe from a distance of about thirty miles. For one instant I could see their lofty peaks.

For six months we had been prisoners aboard the Nautilus. We had fared 17,000 leagues, and as Ned Land said, there was no end in sight. So he made me a proposition. We were to ask Captain Nemo this question straight out: did the captain mean to keep us on board his vessel permanently?

This measure was distasteful to me. To my mind it would lead nowhere. We could hope for nothing from the Nautilus’s commander but could depend only on ourselves. Besides, for some time now the captain had been gloomier, more withdrawn, less sociable. He seemed to be avoiding me. I encountered him only at rare intervals. He used to explain the underwater wonders to me; now he left me to my research and no longer entered the lounge.

What changes had come over him? From what cause? I had no reason to blame myself. Was our presence on board perhaps a burden to him? Even so, I cherished no hopes that the man would set us free.

So I begged Ned to let me think about it before taking action. If this measure proved fruitless, it could arouse the captain’s suspicions, make our circumstances even more arduous, and jeopardize the Canadian’s plans. We had never felt better, neither Ned, Conseil, nor I. The nutritious food, life-giving air, regular routine. But we ourselves hadn’t severed all ties with humanity. For my part, I didn’t want my new and unusual research to be buried with my bones.

On May 8, Ned Land told me:

“Sir,” he told me that day, “Your Nemo’s veering away from shore and heading up north. But believe me, I don’t want to go with him to the North Pole.”

“What can we do, Ned, since it isn’t feasible to escape right now?”

“I am coming back to my idea. We’ve got to talk to the captain. When we were in your own country’s seas, you didn’t say a word. Now that we’re in mine, I intend to speak up. Honestly, sir, I’d rather jump overboard! I can’t stay here any longer! I’m suffocating!”

The Canadian was obviously at the end of his patience. His vigorous nature couldn’t adapt to this protracted imprisonment. His facial appearance was changing by the day. His moods grew gloomier and gloomier. Nearly seven months had gone by without our having any news from shore.

“Well, sir?” Ned Land went on, seeing that I hadn’t replied.

“Well, Ned, you want me to ask Captain Nemo what he intends to do with us?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Even though he has already made that clear?”

“Yes. I want it settled once and for all. Speak just for me, strictly on my behalf, if you want.”

“But I rarely encounter him. He positively avoids me. Anyway, I’ll confer with him, Ned.”

“When?” the Canadian asked insistently.

“When I encounter him.”

“Professor Aronnax, would you like me to go find him myself?”

“No, let me do it. Tomorrow—”

“Today,” Ned Land said.

“So be it. I’ll see him today,” I answered the Canadian, who, if he took action himself, would certainly have ruined everything.

I was left to myself. I went to Captain Nemo’s quarters. I knocked on his door. I received no reply. I knocked again, then tried the knob. The door opened.

I entered. The captain was there. He was bending over his worktable and hadn’t heard me. I drew closer. He looked up sharply, with a frowning brow, and said in a pretty stern tone:

“Oh, it’s you! What do you want?”

“To speak with you, captain.”

“But I’m busy, sir, I’m at work. I give you the freedom to enjoy your privacy, can’t I have the same for myself?”

“Sir,” I said coolly, “I need to speak with you on a matter that simply can’t wait.”

“Whatever could that be, sir?” he replied sarcastically. “Have you made some discovery that has escaped me? Has the sea yielded up new secrets to you?”

Before I could reply, he showed me a manuscript open on the table and told me in a more serious tone:

“Here, Professor Aronnax, is a manuscript written in several languages. It contains a summary of my research under the sea, and it won’t perish with me. Signed with my name, complete with my life story, this manuscript will be enclosed in a small, unsinkable contrivance. The last surviving man on the Nautilus will throw this contrivance into the sea, and it will go wherever the waves carry it.”

His name! His life story written by himself! So the secret of his existence might someday be unveiled?

“Captain,” I replied, “the fruits of your research must not be lost. But the methods you’re using are primitive. Who knows where the winds will take that contrivance, into whose hands it may fall? Can’t you find something better? Can’t you or one of your men—”

“Never, sir,” the captain said, swiftly interrupting me.

“But my companions and I would be willing to safeguard this manuscript, and if you give us back our freedom—”

“Your freedom!” Captain Nemo said, standing up.

“Yes, sir, and that’s the subject on which I wanted to confer with you. For seven months we’ve been aboard your vessel, and I ask you today, in the name of my companions as well as myself, if you intend to keep us here forever.”

“Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo said, “I’ll answer you today just as I did seven months ago: whoever boards the Nautilus must never leave it.”

“What you’re inflicting on us is outright slavery!”

“Call it anything you like.”

“But captain …”

The captain stared at me, crossing his arms.

“Professor Aronnax, you’re a man able to understand anything, even silence. I have nothing more to say to you. Let this first time you’ve come to discuss this subject also be the last, because a second time I won’t even listen.”

I withdrew. I reported this conversation to my two companions.

“Now we know,” Ned said, “that we can’t expect anything from this man. We’ll escape, no matter what the weather.”

But the skies became more and more threatening. There were conspicuous signs of a hurricane on the way. The atmosphere was turning white and milky.

The Nautilus descended. I thought it would find calm at fifteen meters down. No. The upper strata were too violently agitated. It needed to sink to fifty meters, searching for a resting place.

In the aftermath of this storm, we were thrown back to the east. Away went any hope of escaping to the landing places of New York or the St. Lawrence. In despair, poor Ned went into seclusion like Captain Nemo. Conseil and I no longer left each other.

Sometimes on the surface of the waves, sometimes beneath them, the ship wandered for days amid these mists so feared by navigators. How many ships have perished in these waterways as they tried to get directions from the hazy lights on the coast! How many collisions have occurred with these reefs! How many vessels have rammed each other!

So the floor of this sea had the appearance of a battlefield where every ship defeated by the ocean still lay. Among these vessels, how many went down with their crews and hosts of immigrants!

By May 15 we were off the southern tip of the Grand Banks of Newfoundland[44]. The sea is of no great depth at the Grand Banks. But to the south there is a deep, suddenly occurring depression, a 3,000-meter pit. Here the Gulf Stream[45] loses its speed and temperature, but it turns into a sea.

But the ship didn’t stay long in these waterways. It went up to about latitude 42 degrees. Instead of continuing north, the Nautilus took an easterly heading.

It was on May 17, about 500 miles from Heart’s Content and 2,800 meters down, that I saw this cable lying on the seafloor. Conseil mistook it at first for a gigantic sea snake. But I enlightened him and gave him various details on the laying of this cable.

The first cable was put down during the years 1857-1858; but after transmitting about 400 telegrams, it went dead. In 1863 engineers built a new cable that measured 3,400 kilometers. This attempt also failed.

But Americans refused to give up. Another cable was put down under better conditions.

The long electric cable was covered with seashell rubble. This cable will no doubt last indefinitely because, as observers note, its casing is improved by a stay in salt water.

Would Captain Nemo head up north? No. Much to my surprise, he went back down south and returned to European seas.

An important question then popped into my head. Would the Nautilus dare to tackle the English Channel[46]? Ned Land never stopped questioning me. What could I answer him? Captain Nemo remained invisible.

All day long on May 31, the Nautilus swept around the sea in a series of circles that had me deeply puzzled. At noon Captain Nemo himself appeared. He didn’t address a word to me. He looked gloomier than ever. What was filling him with such sadness? Was it our proximity to these European shores? Was he reliving his memories of that country he had left behind? If so, what did he feel? Remorse or regret?

The next day, June 1, the Nautilus was obviously trying to locate some precise spot in the ocean. The sea was smooth, the skies clear. Eight miles to the east, a big steamship was visible on the horizon line. It had no flag, and I couldn’t tell its nationality.

The ship lay motionless, neither rolling nor pitching. I was on the platform just then. After determining our position, the captain pronounced only these words:

“It’s right here!”

He went down the hatch. I returned to the lounge. The hatch closed, and I heard water hissing in the ballast tanks. The Nautilus began to sink on a vertical line. Some minutes later it stopped at a depth of 833 meters and came to rest on the seafloor.

The ceiling lights in the lounge then went out, the panels opened, and through the windows I saw the sea brightly lit by the beacon’s rays.

A prominent bulge on the sea bottom caught my attention. Carefully examining this mass, I could identify the swollen outlines of a ship. What ship was this? Why had the Nautilus come to visit its grave? Was it something other than a maritime accident that had dragged this ship under the waters?

I wasn’t sure what to think, but next to me I heard Captain Nemo’s voice slowly say:

“Originally this ship was named the Marseillais[47]. It carried seventy-four cannons and was launched in 1762. In 1794 the new Republic of France changed the name of this ship. Seventy-four years ago, at this very spot in latitude 47 degrees 24’ and longitude 17 degrees 28’, this ship sank after a heroic battle. It preferred to go to the bottom with its 356 seamen rather than surrender; and it disappeared beneath the waves to shouts of ‘Long live the Republic!’”

“This is the Avenger[48]!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, sir! The Avenger! A splendid name!” Captain Nemo murmured, crossing his arms.

The way he said this had a profound impact on my mind. Hands outstretched toward the sea, the captain contemplated the proud wreck with blazing eyes. More and more I could see a distinction between the man and the scientist. It was no ordinary misanthropy that kept Captain Nemo and his companions sequestered inside the Nautilus, but a hate so monstrous or so sublime that the passing years could never weaken it.

Did this hate also hunger for vengeance? Time would soon tell.

The Nautilus rose slowly to the surface of the sea, and I watched the Avenger’s murky shape disappearing little by little. Soon we were afloat in the open air.

Just then a hollow explosion was audible. I looked at the captain. The captain did not stir.

“Captain?” I said.

He didn’t reply.

I left him and climbed onto the platform. Conseil and the Canadian were already there.

“What caused that explosion?” I asked.

“A cannon,” Ned Land replied.

I stared in the direction of the ship I had seen. It was heading toward the Nautilus. Six miles separated it from us.

“What sort of ship is it, Ned?”

“I bet it’s a warship,” the Canadian replied. “I hope it will sink this damned Nautilus!”

“Ned my friend,” Conseil replied, “what harm could it do the Nautilus? Will it attack us under the waves? Will it cannonade us at the bottom of the sea?”

“Tell me, Ned,” I asked, “can you make out the nationality of that ship?”

The Canadian focused the full power of his gaze on the ship.

“No, sir,” he replied. “It has no flag. But I’ll swear it’s a warship.”

Soon the Canadian announced that the ship was a big battleship. Dark, dense smoke burst from its two funnels. It was coming on fast. If Captain Nemo let it approach, a chance for salvation might be available to us.

“Sir,” Ned Land told me, “if that boat gets within a mile of us, I’m jumping overboard. Will you follow me?”

I didn’t reply to the Canadian’s proposition but kept watching the ship, which was looming larger on the horizon. Whether it was English, French, American, or Russian, it would surely welcome us aboard if we could just get to it.

“Master may recall,” Conseil then said, “that we have some experience with swimming. He can rely on me to tow him to that vessel with our friend Ned.”

Before I could reply, white smoke streamed from the battleship’s bow. Then, a few seconds later, the waters splashed astern of the Nautilus. Soon after, an explosion struck my ears.

“What’s this? They’re firing at us!” I exclaimed.

“Good lads!” the Canadian muttered.

“But it must be clear to them,” I exclaimed, “that they’re dealing with human beings.”

“Maybe that’s why!” Ned Land replied, staring at me.

Undoubtedly people now knew what this so-called monster was. Undoubtedly Commander Farragut recognized the narwhale as actually an underwater boat, more dangerous than any cetacean!

Captain Nemo had been using the Nautilus in works of vengeance! That night in the middle of the Indian Ocean, when he imprisoned us in the cell, hadn’t he attacked some ship? That man now buried in the coral cemetery, wasn’t he the victim of some collision caused by the Nautilus? Yes, one part of Captain Nemo’s secret life had been unveiled.

This whole fearsome sequence of events appeared in my mind. Instead of encountering friends on this approaching ship, we would find only pitiless enemies.

Meanwhile shells fell around us. But none of them reached the ship. By then the ironclad was no more than three miles off. Despite its violent cannonade, Captain Nemo hadn’t appeared on the platform. The Canadian then told me:

“Sir, we’ve got to do everything we can to get out of here! Let’s signal them! Damnation! Maybe they’ll realize we’re good people!”

Ned Land pulled out his handkerchief to wave it in the air. But he had barely unfolded it when he was felled by an iron fist, and despite his great strength, he tumbled to the deck.

“Scum!” the captain shouted. “Do you want to be nailed to the Nautilus’s spur before it charges that ship?”

Dreadful to hear, Captain Nemo was even more dreadful to see. His face was pale. His voice was no longer speaking, it was bellowing. He shook the Canadian by the shoulders. Then, dropping Ned and turning to the battleship:

“O ship of an accursed nation, you know who I am!” he shouted in his powerful voice. “And I don’t need your colors to recognize you! Look! I’ll show you mine!”

And Captain Nemo unfurled a black flag.

Just then a shell hit the Nautilus’s hull obliquely and vanished into the sea. Captain Nemo shrugged his shoulders. Then, addressing me:

“Go below!” he told me in a curt tone. “You and your companions, go below!”

“Sir,” I exclaimed, “are you going to attack this ship?”

“Sir, I’m going to sink it.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I will,” Captain Nemo replied icily. “You can’t pass judgment on me, sir. The attack has come. Our reply will be dreadful. Get back inside!”

“From what country is that ship?”

“You don’t know? Fine, so much the better! At least its nationality will remain a secret to you. Go below!”

The Canadian, Conseil, and I could only obey. Some fifteen of the Nautilus’s seamen surrounded their captain and stared with a feeling of implacable hate at the ship.

I went below and I heard the captain exclaim:

“Shoot, you demented vessel! Shower your futile shells! You won’t escape the Nautilus’s spur! But this isn’t the place where you’ll perish! I don’t want your wreckage mingling with that of the Avenger!”

I repaired to my stateroom. The captain and his chief officer stayed on the platform. The propeller was set in motion. The Nautilus swiftly retreated. But the chase continued, and Captain Nemo kept his distance.

Near four o’clock in the afternoon, unable to control the impatience and uneasiness devouring me, I went back to the central companionway. The hatch was open. I ventured onto the platform. The captain was still strolling there, his steps agitated. He stared at the ship. He was circling it like a wild beast, drawing it eastward. Yet he didn’t attack. Was he, perhaps, still undecided?

I tried to intervene one last time. But Captain Nemo silenced me:

“I’m the law, I’m the tribunal! I’m the oppressed, and there are my oppressors! Thanks to them, I’ve witnessed the destruction of everything I loved, cherished, and venerated—homeland, wife, children, father, and mother! There lies everything I hate! Not another word out of you!”

I took a last look at the battleship. Then I rejoined Ned and Conseil.

“We’ll escape!” I exclaimed.

“Good,” Ned said. “Where’s that ship from?”

“I’ve no idea. But wherever it’s from, it will sink before nightfall. In any event, it’s better to perish with it than to be involved in some act of revenge whose merits we can’t gauge.”

“That’s my feeling,” Ned Land replied coolly. “Let’s wait for nightfall.”

Night fell. A profound silence reigned on board. The compass indicated that the Nautilus hadn’t changed direction. I could hear the beat of its propeller. Staying on the surface of the water, it rolled gently, sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other.

My companions and I had decided to escape as soon as the vessel came close enough for us to be heard—or seen. Several times I thought the Nautilus was about to attack. But it did not attack the ship.

Part of the night passed without incident. We kept watch for an opportunity to take action. We talked little. I decided that the Nautilus would attack the ship on the surface of the waves, and then it would be possible and easy to escape.

At three o’clock in the morning, full of uneasiness, I climbed onto the platform. Captain Nemo hadn’t left it. He stood in the bow next to his flag. His eyes never left that vessel.

The moon then passed its zenith. Jupiter was rising in the east.

The vessel was two miles off. I saw its green and red running lights, plus the white lantern hanging from its foremast. Showers of sparks and cinders of flaming coal escaped from its funnels, spangling the air with stars.

I stood there until six o’clock in the morning, Captain Nemo did not notice me. The vessel lay a mile and a half off, and with the first glimmers of daylight, it resumed its cannonade. Soon my companions and I will leave forever this man I dared not judge.

I was about to go below to alert them, when the chief officer climbed onto the platform. Several seamen were with him. Captain Nemo didn’t see them, or didn’t want to see them. They carried out certain procedures that you could call “clearing the decks for action.”

I returned to the lounge. The Nautilus still emerged above the surface. That dreadful day of June 2 had dawned.

At seven o’clock the log told me that the Nautilus had reduced speed. The explosions grew more intensely audible.

“My friends,” I said, “it’s time. Let’s shake hands, and may God be with us!”

Ned Land was determined, Conseil calm, I myself nervous.

We went into the library. Just as I pushed open the door leading to the well of the central companionway, I heard the hatch close sharply overhead.

A well-known hissing told me that water was entering the ship’s ballast tanks. Indeed, in a few moments the Nautilus had submerged some meters below the surface of the waves.

I understood this maneuver. It was too late to take action. We were going to strike the ship below its waterline.

We were prisoners once more. But we barely had time to think. Taking refuge in my stateroom, we stared at each other without pronouncing a word. I waited, I listened!

Meanwhile the Nautilus’s speed had increased. Suddenly there had been a collision, but it was comparatively mild. I could feel the penetrating force of the steel spur. I could hear scratchings and scrapings. The Nautilus had passed through the vessel’s mass like a needle through canvas!

I leaped out of my stateroom and rushed into the lounge.

Captain Nemo was there. Mute, gloomy, implacable, he was staring through the port panel.

An enormous mass was sinking beneath the waters, and the Nautilus, was descending into the depths with it.

The water was rising. Poor men leaped up into the shrouds, clung to the masts, writhed beneath the waters. It was a human anthill!

The enormous vessel settled slowly. Following it down, the Nautilus kept watch on its every movement. Suddenly there was an eruption. The poor ship then sank more swiftly. Then the dark mass disappeared.

I turned to Captain Nemo. This dreadful archangel of hate was still staring. When it was all over, Captain Nemo headed to the door of his stateroom, opened it, and entered. I followed him with my eyes.

On the rear paneling, beneath the portraits of his heroes, I saw the portrait of a woman with two little children. Captain Nemo stared at them for a few moments, stretched out his arms to them, sank to his knees, and began to sob.

Inside the Nautilus all was gloom and silence. Where was it going? North or south? Where would the captain go after this horrible act of revenge?

I reentered my stateroom, where Ned and Conseil were waiting silently. Captain Nemo filled me with insurmountable horror. He had made me an eyewitness to his vengeance! And it this was intolerable.

At eleven o’clock went into the lounge. It was deserted. I consulted the various instruments. The Nautilus was fleeing northward at a speed of twenty-five miles per hour, sometimes on the surface of the sea, sometimes thirty feet beneath it.

After our position had been marked on the chart, I saw that we were passing into the mouth of the English Channel.

I estimate—but perhaps I’m mistaken—that the Nautilus’s haphazard course continued for fifteen or twenty days, and I’m not sure how long this would have gone on without the catastrophe that ended our voyage. As for Captain Nemo, he was no longer seen. Not one crewman was visible for a single instant. The Nautilus cruised beneath the waters almost continuously. When it rose briefly to the surface to renew our air, the hatches opened and closed as if automated. No more positions were reported on the world map. I didn’t know where we were.

I’ll also mention that the Canadian made no further appearances, too. You can appreciate that under these conditions, our situation had become untenable.

One morning—whose date I’m unable to specify—waking up, I saw Ned Land leaning over me, and I heard him tell me in a low voice:

“Time to escape!”

I sat up.

“When?” I asked.

“Tonight. I haven’t seen anybody on the Nautilus for a long time. Will you be ready, sir?”

“Yes. Where are we?”

“In sight of land. I saw it through the mists just this morning, twenty miles to the east.”

“What land is it?”

“I’ve no idea, but whatever it is, there we’ll take refuge.”

“Yes, Ned! We’ll escape tonight!”

“The sea’s rough, the wind’s blowing hard, but they don’t scare me. I’ve stowed some food and flasks of water inside.”

“I’m with you.”

“What’s more,” the Canadian added, “if they catch me, I’ll defend myself, I’ll fight to the death.”

“Then we’ll die together, Ned my friend.”

The Canadian left me. I went out on the platform. The skies were threatening, but land lay inside those dense mists, and we had to escape. Not a single day, or even a single hour, could we afford to lose.

I returned to the lounge, dreading yet desiring an encounter with Captain Nemo, wanting yet not wanting to see him. What would I say to him? How could I hide the involuntary horror he inspired in me? No! It was best not to meet him face to face! Best to try and forget him!

At six o’clock I ate supper, but I had no appetite. At 6:30 Ned Land entered my stateroom. He told me:

“We won’t see each other again before we go. At ten o’clock it will be dark. We’ll take advantage of the darkness. Come to the skiff. Conseil and I will be inside waiting for you.”

The Canadian left without giving me time to answer him.

I made my way to the lounge. We were racing north-northeast with frightful speed, fifty meters down.

I took one last look at the natural wonders and artistic treasures amassed in the museum, this unrivaled collection doomed to perish someday in the depths of the seas, together with its curator. I stayed there an hour, the treasures were shining in their glass cases. Then I returned to my stateroom.

There I gathered my notes and packed them tenderly. My heart was pounding mightily. What was Captain Nemo doing just then? I listened at the door to his stateroom. I heard the sound of footsteps. Captain Nemo was inside. He hadn’t gone to bed. With his every movement I imagined he would appear and ask me why I wanted to escape!

I controlled myself and stretched out on the bed. My nerves calmed a little.

By then it was 9:30. I closed my eyes. I no longer wanted to think. A half hour still to wait! A half hour of nightmares that could drive me insane!

Just then I heard indistinct chords from the organ, melancholy harmonies from some undefinable hymn. Then a sudden thought terrified me. Captain Nemo had left his stateroom. He was in the same lounge I had to cross in order to escape. There I would encounter him one last time. He would see me, perhaps speak to me! One gesture from him could obliterate me!

Ten o’clock. It was time to leave my stateroom and rejoin my companions.

I opened the door cautiously, it seemed to make a frightful noise. This noise existed, perhaps, only in my imagination!

I crept forward through the Nautilus’s dark gangways, pausing after each step. I arrived at the corner door of the lounge. I opened it gently. Chords from the organ were reverberating faintly. Captain Nemo was there. He didn’t see me. He was completely immersed in his trance.

It took me five minutes to reach the door at the far end, which led into the library.

I was about to open it when a gasp from Captain Nemo nailed me to the spot. I realized that he was standing up. He was coming toward me, arms crossed, silent, not walking but gliding like a ghost. His chest was swelling with sobs. And I heard him murmur these words, the last of his to reach my ears:

“O almighty God! Enough! Enough!”

Frantic, I rushed into the library. I climbed the central companionway, and going along the upper gangway, I arrived at the skiff. I went through the opening that had already given access to my two companions.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” I exclaimed.

“Right away!” the Canadian replied.

After closing the opening in the skiff, the Canadian began to unscrew the nuts still bolting us to the underwater boat. Suddenly a noise from the ship’s interior became audible. What was it? Had they noticed our escape? Ned Land gave me a dagger.

“Yes,” I muttered, “we know how to die!”

The Canadian paused in his work. But one word twenty times repeated, one dreadful word, told me the reason for the agitation spreading aboard the Nautilus. We weren’t the cause of this agitation.

“Maelstrom[49]! Maelstrom!” they were shouting.

The Maelstrom! Could a more frightening name have rung in our ears? Was the Nautilus being dragged into this whirlpool?

As you know, the waters confined between the Faroe and Lofoten Islands[50] rush out with irresistible violence. They form a vortex from which no ship has ever been able to escape. Monstrous waves race together from every point of the horizon. They form a whirlpool, whose attracting power extends a distance of fifteen kilometers. It can suck down not only ships but whales, and even polar bears from the northernmost regions.

This was where the Nautilus had been sent by its captain. It was sweeping around in a spiral whose radius kept growing smaller and smaller. The skiff, still attached to the ship, was likewise carried around at dizzying speed. We were in dread, our blood frozen in our veins, our nerves numb!

What a predicament! The ship defended itself like a human being. Its steel muscles were cracking.

Suddenly a cracking sound occurred. The nuts gave way, and ripped out of its socket, the skiff was hurled like a stone from a sling into the midst of the vortex.

With the violent shock I lost consciousness.

We come to the conclusion of this voyage under the seas. What happened that night, how the skiff escaped from the Maelstrom, how Ned Land, Conseil, and I got out of that whirlpool, I’m unable to say. But when I regained consciousness, I was lying in a fisherman’s hut on one of the Lofoten Islands. My two companions, safe and sound, were at my bedside clasping my hands. We embraced each other heartily.

Just now we can’t even dream of returning to France. Travel between those islands is limited. So I have to wait for the arrival of a steamboat.

So it is here, among these gallant people, that I’m reviewing my narrative of these adventures. It is accurate. Not a fact has been omitted, not a detail has been exaggerated. It’s the faithful record of this inconceivable expedition.

Will anyone believe me? I don’t know. Ultimately it’s unimportant. I’ve earned the right to speak of the seas, beneath which in less than ten months, I’ve made 20,000 leagues in this underwater tour of the world that has shown me so many wonders across the Pacific, the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, the Mediterranean, the Atlantic, the southernmost and northernmost seas!

But what happened to the Nautilus? Is Captain Nemo alive? Is he still under the ocean pursuing his frightful program of revenge, or did he stop? Will the waves someday deliver that manuscript that contains his full life story? Will I finally learn the man’s name?

I hope so. I likewise hope that this powerful vessel has defeated the sea inside its most dreadful whirlpool, that the Nautilus has survived where so many ships have perished! May the scientist continue his peaceful exploration of the seas! 6,000 years ago it was written in the Bible: “Who can fathom the soundless depths?” Two have now earned the right to reply. Captain Nemo and I.

abandon — v покидать; оставлять

ability — n способность, навык

able — adj могущий, способный (что-л. сделать)

abnormal — adj ненормальный

abominable — adj отвратительный

abreast — adv не отставая, на уровне

abruptly — adv отрывисто, резко, внезапно

absence — n отсутствие

absolutely – adv безусловно; совершенно точно, абсолютно

absorb — v поглощать; впитывать

abundance — n изобилие

abundantly — adv обильно

accent —n ударение; акцент; v акцентировать, выделять

accept — v принимать

access — n доступ

accident — n несчастный случай; ошибка

accidentally — adv случайно

accompany — v сопровождать

accomplish — v выполнить, делать; достигать, выполнять

accordingly — adj соответственно

account — n счёт; история; v объяснять

accuracy — n точность

accurate — adj точный

accursed — adj проклятый

accuse — v обвинять

accustomed — adj обычный, привычный

acquaintance — n знакомство

acquire — v приобретать

acrobatic — adj акробатический

action — n деятельность; действие; поступок

activate — v активировать

activity — n деятельность; мероприятие

actual – adj действительный; реальный; настоящий

actually — adv действительно; в сущности; на самом деле, в действительности

adapt — v приспосабливать

add — v прибавлять; добавлять

adjoin — v примыкать; прилегать

adjust — v приводить в порядок; поправлять; приспосабливаться

admirable — adj замечательный, прекрасный, достойный восхищения

admissible — adj приемлемый, допустимый

admit — v допускать; признавать(ся)

advance — v продвигаться

advanced — adj продвинутый; передовой

advantage — n преимущество, достоинство

advantageous — adj благоприятный; выгодный; полезный

adventure – n приключение

advise — v советовать

affable — adj приветливый; любезный; милый

affect — v влиять; оказывать воздействие

afford — v быть в состоянии; позволять

afloat – adj&adv на воде; на плаву

Africa — n Африка

afterdeck — n палуба

aftermath — n последствия, результат

afternoon — n послеполуденное время; день, полдень

ageless — adj нестареющий; вечный

agility — n проворство, ловкость

agitate — v волновать; возбуждать

agitation — n волнение; возбуждение

agonizing — adj мучительный

agreeable — adj приятный

agreement — n согласие; соглашение

aim — n цель; v целиться

air — n воздух; вид

ajar — adj приоткрытый

alacrity — n живость; рвение

alarm — n тревога; сигнал тревоги; v тревожить; волновать

alarmed — adj встревоженный

alert — n тревога; adj настороженный; v предупреждать, объявлять тревогу

alive — adj живой

alley — n переулок

allow – v позволять; разрешать

almighty — adj всемогущий

alongside — adv вдоль; борт о борт

alternative — n альтернатива; adj альтернативный

altitude — n высота

amass — v накоплять

amaze – adj изумлять; восхищать

amazingly — adv изумительно

America — n Америка

American — adj американский

amid – prep среди

amidships — adv по середине корабля

amount — n сумма; количество

anchor — n якорь

ancient — adj древний

anemone — n анемон; ветреница; sea ~ морской анемон; актиния

anger — n гнев, злость; v злить

animal — n животное

announce — v объявлять

Antarctic — n Антарктика; adj антарктический

anthill — n муравейник

antiquity — n древность; старина; античность

anxiety — n беспокойство; тревога; волнение

apartment — n квартира; комната

apathy — n апатия

ape — n обезьяна

apparently — adv видимо; очевидно; явно

apparition — n (по)явление

appear — v показываться, появляться

appearance — n вид, наружность, внешность; внешний вид; появление

appease — v успокаивать

appetite — n аппетит

appreciate — v оценивать; (высоко) ценить

appreciation — n оценка; рецензия; понимание; признательность

approach — n подход; v приближаться; подходить

appropriate — adj соответствующий; подходящий

aquatic – adj водяной; водный

arabesque — n арабеск(а)

archangel — n архангел

architecture — n архитектура, зодчество

Arctic — n Арктика; adj арктический

arduous — adj трудный; тяжкий

area — n область; зона, территория; местность

argue — v обсуждать, спорить

argument — n аргумент; довод; спор

arise (arose, arisen) — v вставать; возникать

arithmetic — n арифметика

arm — n рука; v вооружать

armor — n доспехи; броня

aroma — n аромат

arouse – v пробуждать

arrange – v планировать; устраивать; приводить в порядок; организовывать, раскладывать

arrangement — n приготовление; удобства; приведение в порядок; договорённость

arrival — n прибытие

arrow — n стрела

arsenal — n склад оружия

art — n искусство

article — n предмет; изделие; статья

articulate — v отчётливо произносить; излагать

artifact — n артефакт

artist — n художник

artistic — adj художественный, творческий

ashore — adv на берегу; на берег

Asia — n Азия

aspect — n вид, выражение; аспект, сторона

asphyxiate — v вызывать, вызвать удушье; душить

asphyxiation — n удушение

assault — n нападение; v нападать; атаковать

assembly — n собрание; сбор

assessment — n оценка

assistant — n помощник; ассистент

associate — v соединять; связывать

assorted — adj сортированный; подобранный

assume — v предполагать

assuredly — adv несомненно

astern — adv за кормой; на корме

astonish — v удивлять; изумлять

astonishment — n удивление

astoundingly — adv поразительно

astronomer — n астроном

astronomical — adj астрономический; гигантский

astronomy — n астрономия

athletic — adj атлетический

atmosphere — n атмосфера

atom — n атом

atrocious — adj зверский, жестокий

attach — v прикреплять; привязывать

attack — n нападение; v нападать

attempt — n попытка; v пытаться

attend — v присутствовать; посещать; уделять внимание

attention — n внимание

attest — v удостоверять; свидетельствовать

attitude – n отношение

attract — v притягивать; привлекать

audible — adj слышимый, слышный

austere — n строгий, суровый

Australia — n Австралия

authorize — v уполномочивать; решать

automated — adj автоматизированный

available — adj доступный; имеющийся в распоряжении

avenge — v мстить

average — adj средний, обычный

avoid — v избегать

awaken — v пробудить, просыпаться

awfully — adv ужасно, страшно

axe — n топор

babble — v болтать; лепетать, бормотать

bachelor — n холостяк

backward — adj обратный

badly — adv плохо; очень; сильно

baffle — v ставить в тупик; сбивать с толку

baggage — n багаж

balance — n весы; равновесие; v уравновешивать; сохранять равновесие, быть в равновесии

ballast — n балласт

ballistics — n баллистика

bandit — n разбойник, бандит

bang — n громкий удар; v ударять; грохотать

bank — n берег; банк; скопление

banter – n болтовня; подшучивание, подтрунивание; v подтрунивать, подшучивать

bare — adj голый; v обнажать; оголять

barely — adv только, просто; едва

barometer — n барометр

barrel — n бочка; цилиндр; v катиться; нестись

barrier — n барьер, преграда

basaltic — adj базальтовый

base — n фундамент, пьедестал, основание, базис; v основывать

basically — adv в основном

basin — n таз, миска; чаша; бассейн; бухта

battery — n батарея

battle — n битва, сражение; v сражаться

battlefield — n поле сражения/боя

battleship — n линейный корабль, линкор

bay — n залив, бухта

beacon — n сигнальный огонь; маяк; бакен

beam — n луч; v светить

bear (bore, borne) — v нести, выносить

beast — n животное; зверь

beat (beat, beaten) — v бить(ся)

become (became, become) — v становиться

bedside — n кровать, ложе

bedstead — n кровать; остов, станок кровати

beforehand — adv заранее, заблаговременно

beg — v просить; умолять

begin (began, begun) — v начинать

behalf — n on my ~ от моего имени

belief — n вера; доверие

believe — v верить; думать, полагать

believer — n верующий; сторонник

bell — n колокол, колокольчик; звонок

bellow — v реветь

belly — n живот

belt — n пояс, ремень; v подпоясывать

bench — n скамейка

bend (bent, bent) — n поворот; v нагибать; сгибаться, гнуть

benefit — n польза, выгода, преимущество; v приносить пользу; извлекать выгоду

bet — n пари; ставка; v держать пари; думать, считать, надеяться; биться об заклад, быть уверенным в чём-л.

betray — v изменять; предавать

Bible — n Библия

biblical — adj библейский

bid (bade, bidden) — v предлагать; делать ставку

bind (bound, bound) — v связывать

biological — adj биологический

bird — n птица

bit — n кусок, кусочек; частица

bite (bit, bitten) — v кусать

bizarre — adj чудной, диковинный; странный

black – adj чёрный; v чернеть

blackish — adj черноватый

blade — n лезвие, клинок, нож

blame — v осуждать, винить

blazing — adj пылающий

blind — adj слепой; v ослеплять

blinding — adj ослепительный

blindly — adv слепо

blizzard — n пурга

block – n глыба; квартал; v загораживать; блокировать, прикрывать, заглушать

blood — n кровь

blowhole — n отдушина

blue — adj голубой, синий

blunderbuss — n мушкетон

board — n борт; доска; комитет; v сесть на корабль

boast — n хвастовство; похвальба; v хвастать(ся)

body — n тело

boil — v кипеть; кипятить

boisterous — adj буйный, шумливый; бурный

bold — adj смелый, отважный, решительный

boldly — adv смело

bolt — n засов, задвижка; удар молнии, грома; v броситься бежать; рвануться

bond — n связь; v привязываться

bone — n кость

book — n книга

bookcase — n книжный шкаф

boot — n ботинок, башмак; v съездить по физиономии

border – n граница; v граничить

bore — n скука; v надоедать

botanical — adj ботанический

bottom — n дно; низ

bounce — n прыжок; v отскакивать; подпрыгивать

bow — n поклон; v кланяться

brain — n мозг

branch — n ветвь; v расходиться лучами

brandish — v размахивать

bravery — n храбрость, смелость

breach — n нарушение; брешь; v проходить, преодолевать

break (broke, broken) — v ломать(ся)

breakfast – n завтрак; v завтракать

breath — n дыхание, вздох

breathable — adj воздухопроницаемый

breathe — v дышать

breather — n прогулка; передышка

breathing — n дыхание

breeze — n ветерок; бриз; лёгкий ветерок

briefly — adv кратко; сжато, ненадолго

bright — adj светлый, яркий, сияющий

brightly — adv светло, ярко

bring (brought, brought) — v приносить; приводить

brisk — adj скорый; свежий

broad — adj широкий

bronze — adj бронзовый; v покрывать загаром

Brooklyn — n Бруклин

brow — n бровь, лоб

brown — adj коричневый

brute — n жестокий человек

bud — n почка

build (built, built) — v строить; сооружать

builder — n строитель

building — n здание, постройка, строение

bulge — n выпуклость

bulkiness — n громоздкость

bunker — n бункер; блиндаж; яма

burden — n ноша, груз; v нагружать; обременять

burn (burnt, burnt) — v жечь; гореть, пылать, сжигать

burst (burst, burst) — v взрываться; n взрыв

bury — v хоронить; зарывать

business — n дело; работа; затея

busy — adj занятый

butterfly — n бабочка

button — n пуговица; v застёгивать

cabin — n каюта

cabinet — n горка, шкаф

cable — n канат, трос; кабель

cage — n клетка; v сажать в клетку

calculate – v вычислять; рассчитывать

calculation — n вычисление

call — n зов; v звать, называть; прокричать

calm – n спокойствие; adj спокойный; v успокаивать(ся)

Canadian — n канадец

candid — adj искренний, чистосердечный, откровенный

cannibal — n каннибал, людоед

cannon — n пушка; adj пушечный

cannonade — n канонада

cannonball — n пушечное ядро

cannoneer — n канонир

canoe — n каноэ

canvas — n холст; парусина, полотно, брезент

cap — n шапка; крышка; v покрывать

capacity — n возможность; вместимость

capsule — n капсула; крышка

captain — n капитан

captive — n пленник, пленный

capture — n поимка, захват; добыча; v брать, взять в плен; захватывать

carbon — n углерод

carcass — n туша; каркас, остов, корпус

care — n осторожность; v волноваться, заботиться

career — n карьера

carefree — adj беззаботный

careful — adj осторожный; заботливый, внимательный

carefully – adv осторожно; заботливо, бездумно, внимательно

caress — n ласка; v ласкать, гладить

carpet — n ковёр; v покрывать ковром

carriage — n повозка

carry — v нести

carve — v вырезать

cascade — n каскад; водопад

case — n случай, дело; контейнер, чемодан

cast (cast, cast) —tv бросать

castaway – tn&adj потерпевший кораблекрушение

casualty — n жертва

catalogue — n каталог; v каталогизировать

catastrophe — n катастрофа

catch (caught, caught) — v ловить

cause — n причина; v быть причиной; вызывать (что-л.)

caution — n осторожность; v предостерегать

cautiously — adv осторожно

cave — n пещера

cease — v прекращать; переставать

ceiling — n потолок

cell — n камера; ячейка

cemetery — n кладбище

center — n центр; v фокусироваться на

centimeter — n сантиметр

central — adj центральный

century — n столетие, век

cerebral — adj мозговой, церебральный

certainly — adv несомненно, конечно, наверняка

cetacean — n животное из семейства китовых

chain — n цепь

chalky — adj меловой; известковый

chance — n случай; вероятность; шанс; v рискнуть; решиться

change — n перемена; v менять

chapter — n глава

character – n свойство, качество; характер

charge – v нагружать; заряжать

charm — n шарм; талисман; v очаровывать

chart — n карта; таблица, график

chase — n погоня, преследование; v гнаться за; преследовать

chat — n дружеский разговор; болтовня; v болтать; разговаривать

cheer — n восторженный крик; v подбодрять

cheerful — adj бодрый; весёлый

chef — n шеф-повар

chemical — n химикат; adj химический

cherish — v нежно любить; лелеять

chest — n грудь; сундук

chide — v попрекать; бранить

chief — n глава; adj главный, основной, важнейший

chiefly — adv главным образом; в первую очередь

chilblains — n обморожение, обмороженное место

child — n ребёнок

China — n Китай

Chinese — adj китайский

chlorate — n хлорат

choice — n выбор

choose (chose, chosen) — v выбирать

chord — n струна

chronometer — n хронометр

churn — n маслобойка; v сбивать масло; переворачиваться

cigar — n сигара

cinder — n шлак, зола, пепел

circle — n круг, окружность; v объехать по кругу; обводить; ходить по кругу

circulate — v циркулировать

circumference — n окружность

circumstance — n обстоятельство, условие

city — n город

civil — adj вежливый, учтивый, любезный

civilization — n цивилизация

civilize — v цивилизовать

claim — v требовать; заявлять, утверждать

clam — n двустворчатый морской моллюск

clamor — n шум, крики; v шуметь

clamp — n зажим; тиски; v зажимать

clap — v хлопать

clarity — n ясность

clasp – v сжимать; хватать

class — n класс, разряд

classification — n классификация

classify — v классифицировать

clean — n чистка, уборка; adj чистый; v чистить

clear — adj ясный; чистый; vпрояснять; очищать, освобождать

clearly — adv ясно

clench — v стискивать

clever — adj умный

climb — v влезать; взбираться, подниматься

cling — v цепляться; хвататься

clock — n часы; v засекать

close — adv близко; v закрывать

closely — adv близко

cloth — n тряпка; ткань

clothing — n одежда

cloud — n облако; туча; v затуманивать

cloudy — adj облачный

clutch — v схватить; зажать; держать, сжимать

coal — n уголь

coast — n морской берег; побережье

coastline — n береговая линия

coat — n пальто; v покрывать

coconut — n кокос, кокосовый орех

cold — adj холодный

coldly — adv холодно

collapse — n обвал, падение, обрушение; v обваливаться; свалиться

colleague — n коллега

collect — v собирать

collection — n коллекция

collector — n коллекционер

collide — n сталкиваться

collision — n столкновение; коллизия

colossal — adj колоссальный, громадный

column — n колонна, столб

come (came, come) — v приходить

comfortable — adj удобный, уютный

command — n команда, приказ; v приказывать

commander — n командир, командующий; капитан

comment — n замечание, комментарий; v комментировать

common — adj обычный; общий; общепринятый

companion — n товарищ; компаньон

companionway — n проход из пассажирского салона в кабину экипажа

company — n общество; компания

comparable — adj сравнимый

comparative — adj сравнительный; относительный

comparatively — adv сравнительно; относительно

compare — v сравнивать

comparison — n сравнение

compass — n компас

compete — v конкурировать; соперничать; соревноваться

complain — v жаловаться

complaint — n жалоба

complete — adj полный; v завершать

completely — adv полностью; совершенно

compliment — v комплимент; похвала

compose — v составлять; сочинять; успокаиваться, собираться

composition — n сочинение, составление

composure — n спокойствие

comrade — n товарищ

conceal — v скрывать; утаивать

conceive — v задумывать; придумывать

concentric — adj концентрический

concern — n волнение; vкасаться; заботить, беспокоить

conclude — v заканчивать; завершать

conclusion — n вывод; окончание, заключение, завершение

concussion — n сотрясение мозга

condition — n условие; состояние

conduct — n поведение; v вести; проводить

confer — v присваивать; присуждать; совещаться; советоваться

confess — v признавать(ся)

confidence — n доверие; уверенность

confident — adj уверенный, самоуверенный

confine — n граница; v ограничивать, заключать

confinement — n заключение

confirm — v подтверждать

conical — adj конический, конусный

connect — v соединять; связывать

consciousness — n сознание

consequently — adv следовательно, значит

consider — v рассматривать, учитывать; считать

considerable — adj значительный

consist — v состоять; заключаться

conspicuous — v заметный; бросающийся в глаза; выдающийся

constant —adj постоянный; неизменный, верный

constantly — adv постоянно

constellation — n созвездие

constitution — n строение, структура; конституция.

consult — v советоваться

consume — v съедать; поглощать; расходовать

contact — n контакт, соприкосновение; v связаться; контактировать

contain — v содержать, включать, вмещать

container — n контейнер, тара; сосуд, ёмкость

contemplate — v созерцать; пристально рассматривать; раздумывать

content — n довольство; удовлетворение; adj довольный; v удовлетворять

contents — n содержимое

continent — n континент, материк

continental — adj континентальный

continually — adv постоянно, беспрерывно, беспрестанно

continue — v продолжать(ся)

continuously — adv непрерывно

contract — n контракт, договор; v заключать (договор/контракт); подхватывать; сжиматься, сокращаться

contradict — v противоречить

contraption — n приспособление, штуковина

contrivance — n изобретательность; приспособление, изобретение

contrive — v задумывать; изобретать

control — n контроль; v контролировать

contusion — n ушиб; контузия

convenient — adj удобный, подходящий

conversation — n разговор, беседа

converse — v беседовать, разговаривать

conviction — n осуждение; признание виновным; убеждение, убеждённость

convulsion — n сотрясение; потрясение; конвульсия, судорога

convulsively — adv судорожно

cook — n повар; v готовить еду

cool — adj прохладный; холодный; v охлаждать(ся); успокаивать

coolly — adv прохладно; холодно; спокойно

coolness — n прохлада

cope — n свод; v справляться

copper — n медь

cord — n верёвка, бечёвка; шнур

cordially — adv сердечно, радушно

core — n сердцевина; центр, ядро

corner — n угол; v зажимать в угол

corpse — n труп

correct — adj правильный; верный; v исправлять

correspond — v соответствовать

cost (cost, cost) — v стоить

costume — n костюм, платье, одежда

couch — n кушетка, диван

count — n подсчёт; v считать

countryman — n деревенский/сельский житель

courage — n храбрость, смелость, мужество

course – n ход, течение; v бежать; течь

courteously — adv вежливо, учтиво

cover — n крышка; покрывало; v покрывать

cowardly — adv трусливо

crack – n расселина, трещина; v взламывать; треснуть, расколоться; трещать

craft — n хитрость, хитроумие; ловкость, умение

cramp — n судорога, спазм, спазма; v стеснять

cranium — n череп

crash — n грохот; v разбивать; ломаться

crater — n кратер

cream — n сливки

create — v coздавать

creator — n творец

creature — n создание, тварь, существо

creeper — n ползучее растение

crew — n команда; экипаж

crewman — n матрос

criticism — n критика

cross — n крест; v пересекать; приходить (на ум)

crown — n корона; v короновать

cruelty — n жестокость; бессердечие

cruise — v крейсировать; совершать рейсы

crush — v давить; мять

crypt — n склеп

Cuba — n Куба

cucumber — n огурец

cunning — n хитрость, коварность; adj хитрый

curator — n куратор

curiosity — n любопытство

curl — v локон, завиток; v завивать; кривить, сжимать, сгибать, поджимать

current — n поток; adj текущий

currently — adv обычно; теперь, ныне, в настоящее время

curse — n проклятие; v проклинать; ругаться

curtain — n занавеска, штора; v занавешивать

cut (cut, cut) — v резать

cuttlefish — n каракатица, сепия

cylinder — n цилиндр

dagger — n кинжал

daily — adj ежедневный; adv ежедневно

damnation — n проклятие

damned — adj проклятый

danger – n опасность

dangerous – adj опасный

dare — v отваживаться; сметь; осмеливаться

daring — adj смелый

dark — n темнота; adj тёмный

darkness — n темнота

dash — v кидать(ся)

data — n данные

date — n дата; свидание; v датировать

dawn — n рассвет; озарение; vсветать

daybreak — n рассвет

daylight — n дневной свет

dazzle — n ослепление; ослепительный блеск; v ослеплять

dead — adj мёртвый

deadlight — n глухое окно; глухой иллюминатор

deaf — adj глухой

deafening — adj оглушительный

deaf-mute — adj глухонемой

deal (dealt, dealt) — n уговор; v иметь дело; разбираться

dearly — adv нежно

death — n смерть

debate — n дискуссия, прения; раздумья; v обсуждать; раздумывать

debt — n долг

decency — n приличие, благопристойность; порядочность

decent — adj приличный; порядочный; достойный; добропорядочный

decide — v решать

decision — n решение

deck — n палуба

decline — v отклонять

decorate — v украшать

decrease — n уменьшение, убывание; v уменьшать(ся)

decree — v издать предписание

deep — adj глубокий

defend – v оборонять; защищать

defiance — n вызов, сопротивление; неповиновение

define — v определять; толковать

definite — adj определённый; точный, чёткий

defy — v вызывать; бросать вызов; игнорировать, не подчиняться

degree — n градус; ступень, степень; уровень

delay — n задержка, отсрочка, промедление; v откладывать; задерживать; медлить

delicate — adj изысканный

delight — n радость; восторг; v доставлять наслаждение/ удовольствие

delightful — adj восхитительный, очаровательный

deliver — v доставлять; освобождать

demented — adj сумасшедший

demolish — v сносить; разрушать; уничтожать

denial — n отрицание, опровержение

dense — adj плотный, густой

density — n плотность

deny — v отрицать

departure — n отъезд, отправление

depend — v зависеть

depict — v изображать на картине, рисовать

depression — v давление; впадина; депрессия; уныние

deprive —v лишать

depth — n пучина, глубины (океана)

descend — n спуск; v спускаться

descent — n скат, склон; спуск, снижение

describe — v описывать

desert — n пустыня; — v оставлять, покидать

deserve – v заслуживать

desire — n желание, стремление; v желать

despair — n отчаяние; v отчаиваться

desperate — adj безнадёжный, отчаянный, безрассудный

destroy — v разрушать, уничтожать

detail — n подробность, деталь; v входить / вдаваться в подробности

detect —v выслеживать; находить; обнаруживать

determine — v определять, устанавливать

detour — v объезжать

develop — v развивать(ся)

development — n развитие, рост

device — n план, схема, затея; устройство

devilish —adj дьявольский

devote — v посвящать

devotion — n преданность

devour — v пожирать, поглощать

dexterity — n ловкость, проворство, сноровка

diagonal — n диагональ; adj диагональный

diagonally — adv диагонально

dialect — n диалект, наречие, говор

dialogue — n диалог, разговор

diamond — n алмаз, бриллиант

differ — v отличаться; различаться

different — adj различный; разный

difficult — adj трудный

difficulty — n трудность

dig — v копать, закапывать

dignity — n достоинство, честь

dimension — n размер

dimly — adv тускло

dingy — adj грязный, тёмный, мрачный

dinner — n обед; ужин

dinnertime — n время / час обеда

dioxide — n двуокись

direct — v направлять, указывать

direction — n направление

dirge — n погребальное пение

disappear — v исчезать; пропадать

disappearance — n исчезновение, пропажа

disappointed — adj разочарованный

disappointment — n разочарование

disbelief — n неверие

discard — v выбрасывать; отбрасывать

discomfort — n дискомфорт; неудобство; v причинять неудобство, стеснять

discontent – n недовольство; adj недовольный; v возбуждать недовольство

discouragement — n разочарование; обескураженность

discovery — n открытие; разоблачение

discuss — v обсуждать

discussion — n обсуждение, дискуссия

dislocate — v вывихнуть

disown — v отказываться; отрекаться

disperse — v рассеивать

displaced — adj перемещённый

display — v показывать, проявлять; отображать

disposal — n передача; избавление, удаление; распоряжение

disrupt — v нарушать, нарушать

distant — adj отдалённый; далёкий; дальний

distaste — n отвращение

distasteful — adj неприятный, противный

distinction — n отличие; различие

distinctly — adv отчётливо; чётко

distinguish — v различать; выделять

distribute — v распределять; раздавать, раскладывать

disturb — v беспокоить, мешать; тревожить

dive — v нырять

diver — n ныряльщик; водолаз

divide — v делить; разделять

dizziness — n головокружение

dizzying — adj ошеломляющий

dock — n док

domain — n владения

dominion — n владычество; владение

doomed — adj обречённый

doorway — n дверной проём

double — adj двойной; v удваивать

doubt — n сомнение; v сомневаться

downward — adv вниз

doze — n дремота; v дремать

dozen —n дюжина

drag — v тащить, волочить

dramatize — v инсценировать; драматизировать

draw (drew, drawn) — v рисовать; тащить; тянуть

dread — n трепет; v ужасаться; бояться

dream – n мечта, сон; v сниться; видеть сны

dress — n платье; v одевать(ся)

drift — n течение, самотёк; vдрейфовать; относить, гнать (ветром, течением)

drop — n капля; v падать, ронять

drown — v топить; тонуть

drowsiness — n сонливость

dry — adj сухой; v сушить

dryness — n сухость

dugout — n землянка; блиндаж

dumbstruck — adj онемевший

dwell — v жить; обитать; задерживаться

dye — n краска; v красить

eager — adj поспешный; нетерпеливый; страстно желающий

earn — v зарабатывать

earth — n земля

earthenware — n гончарные изделия; глиняная посуда

earthly — adj земной

east – n&adv восток; на восток; к востоку

eastern — adj восточный

eccentric — n чудак; оригинал; adj эксцентричный

economics — n экономика

eddy — n водоворот; вихрь; v клубиться; крутиться

eelgrass — n морская трава

effort — n усилие, попытка

effortless — adj не требующий усилий

elbow — n локоть; v ударить локтём; пихнуть

electric — adj электрический

electricity — n электричество

elegant — adj элегантный, изящный; изысканный

element – n элемент

elevated — adj приподнятный

elusive — adj неуловимый

embarrassment — n смущение

embrace — n объятие; v обнимать

emerge — v появляться

emotionless — adj бесчувственный

emphatically — adv выразительно; многозначительно

employer — n работодатель

empty — adj пустой; v опустошать

enable — v давать возможность; позволять

encircle — v окружать

enclose — v окружать, огораживать

encounter — n встреча; v встречаться

endless — adj бесконечный

energetic — adj энергичный

energy — n энергия

engine — n двигатель; мотор

engineer — n инженер

England — n Англия

enjoy — v наслаждаться

enlighten — v просвещать

enormous — adj громадный, огромный

enrich — v обогащать

enslaved — v порабощать

enthusiast — n энтузиаст

enthusiastic — adj восторженный; полный энтузиазма

entire — adj целый, полный, цельный

entitle — v озаглавливать; давать право; иметь право

entrust — v вверять

episode — n эпизод; случай, происшествие; событие

equal —adj равный, одинаковый

equator — n экватор

equipment — n снаряжение, экипировка; оборудование

eruption — n извержение, взрыв

escape — n бегство; v избежать, выбраться

especially — adv особенно

essence — n сущность, существо

establish — v учреждать; устанавливать; принимать

estimate — v оценивать

etch — v травить; гравировать

eternal — adj вечный

ethics — n этика; мораль

evasively — adv уклончиво

event — n событие, происшествие, случай

exact — adj точный

exaggerate — v преувеличивать

examination — n осмотр; рассмотрение; изучение; исследование

examine — v осматривать, рассматривать, изучать

exceed — v превышать

excellence — n превосходство; превосходное качество

excellent — adj отличный; великолепный

excerpt — n выдержка, цитата

exchange — v менять, обменивать

excited — adj возбуждённый

excitement — n возбуждение; волнение

exclaim — v восклицать

excursion — n экскурсия

execute — v выполнять; исполнять; осуществлять

exertion — n осуществление; усилие; перегрузка

exhausted – adj изнурённый, истощённый; обессиленный

exhaustion —n изнурение, истощение; изнеможение

exhibit — v выставлять; демонстрировать

exhibition — n выставка; показ, проявление

exile — n изгнание; ссылка; v изгонять; ссылать

existence — n сосуществование

expanse — n протяжение; широкое пространство; расширение; пространство; простор

expel — v исключать; выгонять

experience — n опыт; v испытывать

expertly — adv мастерски

expire — v истекать, угасать

explain — v объяснять

explanation — n объяснение

explode — v взрывать(ся)

exploration — n исследование

explosion — n взрыв

expose — v выставлять; обнажать

expression — n выражение

expressively — adv выразительно

exquisite — adj изысканный; совершенный; утончённый

extend — v протягивать; простираться

extract —v вытаскивать

extraordinary — adj чрезвычайный, необычайный, выдающийся; исключительный

extreme — adj крайний; чрезмерный; крайне болезненный; экстремальный

eyepiece — n окуляр

eyewitness — n очевидец

fabric – n ткань, материя; материал

fabulous — adj легендарный; мифический; сказочный; великолепный

facial — adj лицевой

fade — v обесцвечивать(ся), угасать; постепенно исчезать

fail — v не удаваться; подводить, проваливаться

faint — adj бледный; v бледнеть, падать в обморок

fairly — adj довольно, достаточно, весьма, очень; относительно

fairy — n фея, волшебница

faith — n вера

faithful — adj верный; точный

fall (fell, fallen) — v падать

familiar — adj обычный, привычный; знакомый

fanatic — n фанатик; adj фанатичный

fantastic — adj фантастический, фантастичный; потрясающий

far — adj далёкий; adv далеко

fare — n плата; пища; v жить, существовать

farewell — n прощание

fascinate — v гипнотизировать взглядом; завораживать

fashion — n образ, манера; мода; стиль; v придавать форму; стилизовать; создавать

fasten — v запирать; завязать, закрыть; застёгивать; фиксировать

fatal — adj смертельный, гибельный, пагубный; фатальный

fate — n судьба, рок

fathom — n морская сажень

fatten — v откармливать на убой; удобрять; жиреть

fauna — n фауна

favor — n благосклонность; расположение; v поддерживать

favorable — adj благоприятный, благосклонный;

fearful — adj страшный, ужасный

fearsome — adj устрашающий, грозный

feasible — adj осуществимый, выполнимый

feeling — n ощущение, чувство

fellow — n парень

ferry — n паром

fetter — n кандалы; оковы; v заковывать в кандалы; спутывать

feverish — adj лихорадочный

fickleness — n непостоянство; ветреность

fiction — n вымысел, выдумка

fierce — adj свирепый, лютый

fight (fought, fought) — n бой, схватка, драка; v сражаться

filament — n волокно; нить

fill – v наполнять; наполнять, заполнять(ся)

final — adj последний; завершающий, заключительный

finally — adv наконец

find (found, found) — v находить

finger — n палец; v трогать, ощупывать

fire — n огонь; пожар; v стрелять

fisherman — n рыбак

fist — n кулак

fit — v подходить

fitful — adj неровный, прерывистый

fivefold — adj пятикратный; adv впятеро

fix — v закреплять; исправлять; поправлять; чинить

fixture — n приспособление; прибор

flash — n вспышка; проблеск; мгновение; v сверкать; проноситься

flask — n фляга, фляжка

flaw — n изъян; трещина; недостаток

flesh — n плоть, тело

flexible — adj эластичный, гибкий, гнущийся

float — n поплавок, буй; поплавок; v спускать на воду; снимать с мели; плавать, держаться на поверхности

floe — n плавучая льдина

flora — n флора

fluency — n плавность, гладкость, беглость

flurry — n шквал; волнение, суматоха; v волновать

foam — n пена; v пениться

focus — n фокус; центр, средоточие; v собирать; сосредоточивать

fog — n туман

folk — n народ, люди

follow – v следовать

fond — adj любящий

fondle — v ласкать, гладить

foolish — adj глупый

footstep — n шаг, поступь, след

forbid (forbade, forbidden) — v запрещать

forecastle — n бак, полубак

forehead — n лоб

foremast — n фок-мачта

foretell (foretold, foretold) — v предсказывать

forge — n кузница; v ковать

fork — n вилка; разветвление; v разветвляться

form — n форма, вид; v образовывать; формировать

formal — adj официальный; формальный

formality — n формальность

formerly — adv раньше

formulate — v формулировать; придумывать

forthcoming — n появление

fortunately — adv счастливо, удачно

fortune — n удача, счастье; судьба; состояние, богатство; наследство

fossil — n окаменелость; adj окаменелый

free — adj свободный; v освобождать

frequent — adj частый; v часто посещать

fresh — adj свежий

frigate — n фрегат

frighten — v пугать; устрашать

frightful — adj ужасный, страшный

fringe — v окаймлять

frown — v хмуриться; хмурить брови

fruit — n фрукт; плод

fruitless — adj бесплодный

full — adj полный

funeral — n похороны

funnel — n воронка

furious — adj взбешённый; яростный

furnace — n горн, очаг, печь, топка

furnish — v снабжать; предоставлять

furniture — n мебель

futile — adj бесполезный

gallant — adj храбрый, доблестный

gallery — n галерея

galvanic — adj гальванический, электризующий

game — n игра; добыча

gangway — n сходни, трап

gape — v зевать

gaping — adj открытый

garland — n гирлянда; венок

garnish — n отделка, украшение; v обставлять; украшать

gasp – n перехват дыхания; затруднённое дыхание; сильный резкий вдох; v задыхаться; тяжело дышать

gather — v собирать(ся); поднимать

gauge — n размер; v измерять

gaze — n взгляд; v пристально глядеть

gear — n механизм; оборудование

general — adj общий

generate — v порождать; вызывать

generous — adj великодушный; щедрый

gentle — adj мягкий, тихий, деликатный; добрый, нежный

genuine — adj настоящий; подлинный; искренний

gesticulate — v жестикулировать

gesture — n жест; телодвижение; v жестикулировать, показать жестом

ghost — n привидение; дух

giant — n гигант, великан; adj гигантский

gift — n подарок; дар; v дарить

gigantic — adj гигантский

girth — n подпруга; обхват; размер.

glad — adj довольный

glance — n взгляд; v взглянуть

glass — n стекло; стакан

gleam — n проблеск; v блестеть; мерцать

glee — n веселье; ликование

glide — v скользить

glimmer — n тусклый свет; мерцание; v мерцать

glimpse – n проблеск; беглый взгляд; v увидеть мельком

glisten — v сверкать; искриться

globe — n (земной) шар; глобус

globular — adj шаровидный

gloom — n мрак; мрачность

gloomy — adj мрачный; гнетущий; хмурый; унылый

glorious — adj славный, великолепный

glow — n свечение; v светить(ся), сиять

glowworm — n светлячок

glue — n клей; v клеить; приклеивать

gold — n золото

government — n правительство

governor — n губернатор

grab — v схватить

grace — n грация; такт; v награждать

gracious — adj милостивый; любезный; обходительный

grant — v даровать; жаловать

grasp — n схватывание; хватка; v хватать

grass — n трава

gratitude — n благодарность

grave — n могила; adj серьёзный

grayish — adj сероватый

graze — v задевать; пастись

greet — v приветствовать

grope — v идти ощупью

ground — n земля; основание; v основывать

group — n группа; v группировать; собираться

grow (grew, grown) — v расти, становиться

guard — n охрана, сторож; осмотрительность, осторожность; v охранять

guess – v полагать, угадывать; гадать, догадываться

guest — n гость

guide — n проводник; гид; v вести

gunpowder — n порох

gunshot — n дальность выстрела

habit — n привычка

habitually — adv привычно; обычно

hail — n град; v осыпать; приветствовать

hallucination — n галлюцинация

halt— n остановка; v останавливать(ся)

handkerchief — n носовой платок; v промокать платком

handle — n ручка, рукоять, рукоятка; v справляться; улаживать; выносить

haphazard — adj случайный; adv случайно; наудачу

happen — v случаться; происходить

hardly — adv едва (ли)

harm — n вред, ущерб; v вредить

harmless — adj безвредный; безопасный; безобидный

harmonious — adj гармоничный; дружный; слаженный; согласный

harmony — n гармония

harpoon — n гарпун; v бить гарпуном; гарпунить

harpooner — n гарпунщик

harvester — n жнец

hasten — v спешить; торопить(ся)

hastily — adv поспешно; торопливо

hatch — n люк; отверстие; крышка; v вынашивать, замышлять

hate — n ненависть; v ненавидеть

haul — n рейс, пробег; v тянуть; тащить

hazardous — adj рискованный; опасный

hazy — adj подёрнутый дымкой; затуманенный; смутный, туманный

headache — n головная боль

health — n здоровье

healthy — adj здоровый

heap – n куча; груда; v наваливать в кучу

hear (heard, heard) – v слышать

heartily — adv сердечно, искренне

heat — n жар; жара, тепло, теплота; v нагревать; греть

heaviness — n тяжесть

heavy — adj тяжёлый

height — n высота; рост

helm — n руль, румпель

help — n помощь; v помогать

helpful — adj полезный; готовый помогать

herd — n стадо; толпа; v сгонять; ходить большой группой

hermetically — adv герметически

hero — n герой

heroic — adj геройский, героический

hesitate — v колебаться; сомневаться

hesitation — n промедление; сомнение; нерешительность

hide (hid, hidden) — v прятать

hideous — adj уродливый, безобразный; отвратительный; ужасный

highly — adv высоко

hip — n бедро

hire — v нанимать

hiss — n шипение, свист; v шипеть

historian — n историк

hit — n удар, толчок; v ударять

hoist — v поднимать

hold (held, held) — v держать

hole — n дыра, отверстие, щель, прорезь

hollow — n впадина; adj впалый; пустой; v выдалбливать

homeland — n родина

honest — adj честный

honesty — n честность

honor — n честь; v почитать

honorable — adj честный, достойный

hoop — n обруч; v скреплять

hope — n надежда; v надеяться

horde — n орда; полчище

horizon — n горизонт

horizontal — n горизонталь; adj горизонтальный

horn — n рог; сирена

horrible — adj ужасный

horror — n ужас

hospitable — adj гостеприимный

hospitality — n гостеприимство

host — n хозяин; v вести

hotly — n горячо

hovel — n лачуга, шалаш

howl — n вопль, стон, вой; v выть, стонать

huge — adj огромный, громадный

hulk — n корпус; увалень

human — n человек; adj человеческий

humanity — n человечество

humidistat — n гигростат; регулятор влажности

humiliate — v унижать

hunger — n голод

hungry — adj голодный

hunk — n кусок

hunt — v охотиться

hurl — v бросать; швырять; с силой поднять

hurricane — n ураган

hurriedly – adv поспешно

hurry — n спешка, поспешность; v спешить

hut — n хижина; лачуга

hydrography — n гидрография

hydroxide — n гидроокись

hymn — n (церковный) гимн

hypothesis — n гипотеза

iceberg — n айсберг

ichthyological — adj ихтиологический

icily — adv холодно

idea — n идея, мысль

ideal — n идеал; adj идеальный

identical — adj тождественный, идентичный

identify — v опознавать; устанавливать; определять

ignore — v игнорировать

ill — adj больной, нездоровый

illness — n болезнь

illuminate — v освещать

illumination — nосвещение

image — n образ; изображение, картинка; статус

imagination — n воображение

imagine — v воображать, представлять

immediate — adj немедленный, незамедлительный; мгновенный; непосредственный

immense — adj огромный, громадный

immenseness — n безмерность

immerse — n погружать

immigrant — n иммигрант

impact — n столкновение; удар; влияние; — v влиять

impatience — n нетерпение

impatient — adj нетерпеливый

impede — v препятствовать; преграждать

impediment — n препятствие к браку

impend — v надвигаться; приближаться

impenetrable —adj непроницаемый

imperative — adj настоятельный

imperceptibly — adv незаметно; незначительно

implacable — adj неумолимый, безжалостный

important — adj важный

impossibility — n невозможность

impossible — adj невозможный

impression — n впечатление

imprison — v заключать тюрьму

imprisonment — n заключение, лишение свободы

improve — v улучшать(ся)

improvement — n улучшение

inaccessible — adj недоступный, неприступный

incalculable — adj неисчислимый, бессчётный, бесчисленный

incapable — adj неспособный

incident — n случай, событие; происшествие

incomplete — adj неполный

incomprehensible — adj непонятный, непостижимый

inconceivable — adj непостижимый; невообразимый

inconveniently — adv неудобно; затруднительно

increase — n рост; v увеличивать(ся)

indebted — adj в долгу, должный

indefinitely — adv неопределённо; бесконечно

independence — n независимость

independent — adj независимый

indescribable — adj неописуемый

indicate — v показывать; указывать; обозначать

indication — n указание; намёк; знак

indiscreet — adj неосторожный; неосмотрительный

indiscriminately — adv неразборчиво

indistinct — adj неясный; невнятный

individual —n личность, человек; adj отдельный; индивидуальный

inert — adj инертный

inevitably — adj неизбежно, неминуемо

inexhaustible —adj неистощимый, неисчерпаемый

inexplicable — adj необъяснимый

infernal — adj адский

infinitely — adv бесконечно; гораздо

infinity — n бесконечность

inflamed — adj воспалённый

inflammation — n воспламенение; возгорание

inflict — v наносить; причинять; приносить

influence — n влияние, воздействие; vвлиять

ingot — n слиток

inhabit – v жить; обитать; населять

inhale — v вдыхать

inject — v вводить; впрыскивать

injury — n рана, ранение, ушиб, травма; повреждение

ink — n чернила; adj чернильный

innuendo — n косвенный намёк; недомолвка; инсинуация

inquiry — n наведение справок

insane — adj безумный, сумасшедший; невменяемый

insanity — n душевная/психическая болезнь; безумие; невменяемость

inscrutable — adj загадочный, непроницаемый; непостижимый

insert – v вставлять, вводить

insistently — adv настойчиво, упорно

insoluble — adj нерастворимый; неразрешимый

inspect — v осматривать

inspire — v вдохновлять

instant — n мгновение, миг

instantly — adv мгновенно; немедленно; тотчас

instinctively — adv инстинктивно; подсознательно

insure — v страховать

insurmountable — adj непреодолимый; невыполнимый

intend – v намереваться

intense – adj сильный, интенсивный

intensity — n сила, интенсивность, глубина

intent — n намерение

intently — adv умышленно; пристально

interior — adj внутренний

interminable — adj бесконечный, нескончаемый, вечный

intermittent — adj прерывающийся; прерывистый

interrupt — v прерывать; обрывать

intervene — v вмешиваться

interview — n интервью; v давать/брать интервью

intolerable — adj невыносимый, несносный

introduce — v представлять; представить(ся)

invent — v изобретать

inventor — n изобретатель

investigation — n расследование, следствие; исследование

invisible — adj невидимый, незримый

invitation — n приглашение

involuntary — adj вынужденный, неохотный; случайный; принудительный

involve — v вовлекать, впутывать

invulnerable — adj неуязвимый

iodine — n йод

ironclad — n броненосец

ironic — adj иронический; ироничный; парадоксальный

irresistible — adj неотразимый, непреодолимый

irritable — adj раздражительный; раздражимый

irritation — n раздражение

island — n остров

islander — n островитянин

islet — n островок

isosceles — adj равнобедренный

itch — n зуд; чесотка; v чесаться; желать

item — n пункт, номер; предмет

ivy – n плющ

jailer — n тюремщик, тюремный надзиратель

jaw — n челюсть

jeopardize — v подвергать опасности

jet — n струя; v бить струёй

jewel — n драгоценный камень

join — v соединять; присоединяться

joint — n соединение; стык; сустав

joke — n шутка; анекдот; v шутить

jolt — n толчок; удар, потрясение; v трясти(сь); толкать; встряхивать

journal — n журнал; газета

journey — n путешествие

judge — n судья; v судить

judgment — n приговор; решение

juice — n сок

jumble — n беспорядочная куча; беспорядок, путаница; v перемешивать

jump — v прыгать

junction — n соединение

kaleidoscope — n калейдоскоп

kangaroo — n кенгуру

keel — n киль; adj устойчивый, стабильный; v переворачивать

keg — n бочонок

kettle — n чайник

keyboard — n клавиатура

kick — n удар, пинок; v ударять, пинать

kilogram — n килограмм

kilometer — n километр

kindle — v разжигать

kindly — adv любезно

kit — n снаряжение; набор

knapsack — n ранец

knee — n колено

knife — n нож

knob — n выпуклость; шишка; ручка; рукоятка

lack — n недостаток, нехватка; v не хватать; недоставать

lad — n парень

ladder — n лестница

laden — adj нагруженный, полный

lag — n запаздывание; задержка; v отставать

lake — n озеро

lance — n копьё; v колоть

language — n язык; речь

lantern — n фонарь

latitude — n широта

laugh — n смех; v смеяться

launch — n пуск, запуск; v запускать; пускать(ся)

lava — n лава

law — n закон

lay (laid, laid) — v класть

lead (led, led) — v вести; приводить

leader — n руководитель, лидер; глава

leaf — n лист; v листать

lean — v прислоняться, облокачиваться; наклоняться

leap — n прыжок; (leaped, leapt) v прыгать

leather — n кожа; adj кожаный

leathern — adj кожаный

ledger — n (главная) учётная книга; регистрационный журнал

leeward — n подветренная сторона

length — n длина

level — n уровень; v сравнять

lever — n рычаг

leviathan — n левиафан

liberator — n освободитель

library — n библиотека

lid — n крышка

lift — n груз; v поднимать

lighthearted — adj беззаботный

lightly — adv легко; слегка

lightning — n молния

likewise — adv подобно; conj таким же образом

limb — n конечность

link — n звено; v связывать; соединять

lion — n лев

lip — n губа

liquid — n жидкость; adj жидкий

liquor – n (спиртной) напиток; алкоголь

listen — v слушать

literature — n литература

liver — n печень

load — n груз; v грузить; нагружать

locate — v помещать; назначать; определять место; располагать; находить

lock — n замок; v запирать на замок; закрывать

locomotive — n локомотив; паровоз; adj движущий, двигательный

log — n бревно, чурбан; полено

logic — n логика

loin — n филе

lonely — adj одинокий; уединённый

longboat — n баркас

longitude — n долгота

lookout — n вахта

loom — v неясно вырисовываться; маячить; нависать

loose — adj свободный, несвязанный, неопределённый; v спускать

loosen — n развязывать; отвинчивать; ослаблять(ся)

lose (lost, lost) — v терять

loud — adj громкий

loyal — adj верный; преданный

luck — n удача

luminous — adj светящийся; светлый, яркий

lung — n лёгкое

lure — n приманка, наживка; v завлекать; приманивать

lurk — v притаиваться; красться

luxuriant — adj обильный; богатый

luxuriously — adv роскошно

lyricism — n лиризм

machine — n машина, механизм

machinery — n машины, техника; машинное оборудование

mad — adj сумасшедший

madman — n сумасшедший

magic — n магия

magical — adj волшебный; магический, очаровательный

magnificent — n великолепный

main — adj главный, основной

major — n майор; adj главный; больший; основной; v специализироваться

mammal — n млекопитающее (животное)

manage — v справляться; управлять

maneuver — n манёвр; v маневрировать

manhole — n люк

mankind — n человечество; мужественность

manner — n способ, манера

mantle — n мантия

manual — n руководство; учебник; пособие; adj ручной

manufacture — n изготовление; производство; v изготовлять; производить

manuscript — n рукопись

map — n карта; v наносить на карту

marble — n мрамор; adj мраморный

marine — adj морской

mariner — n мореплаватель

maritime — adj морской

mark – n метка, пятно; след; v отмечать

marmalade — n варенье, мармелад

martingale — n мартингал

marvel — n чудо; v дивиться; удивляться

marvelous —adj изумительный; чудесный; замечательный

mask — n маска; v надевать маску; маскировать; скрывать

mass — n масса, множество

mast — n мачта

masterpiece — n шедевр

masterwork — n шедевр

mate — n друг; помощник

mathematics — n математика

mattock — n мотыга

mattress — n матрац

maximum — n максимум; adj максимальный

meal — n еда, трапеза; приём пищи, еда

meaning — n значение

meaningful — adj многозначительный; содержательный

means — n средство

meantime — adv между тем, тем временем; в то время

meanwhile — adv между тем, тем временем

measure — n мера; v измерять

mechanic — n механик

mechanical — adj механический

mechanism — n механизм

medicine — n лекарство; медицина

meditate — v размышлять

meet (met, met) — v встречать(ся)

melancholy — n уныние

melt — v растапливать, плавить; таять

memento — n сувенир

memory — n память, воспоминание

mental — adj умственный

mention — v упоминать, замечать

mercy — n милосердие; пощада; жалость

mere — n озеро; adj простой; чистый

merely — adv просто, только, лишь

merge — v сливать(ся)

meridian — n меридиан

merit — n достоинство; заслуга; v заслуживать

metal — n металл; adj металлический

meteorite — n метеорит

meteorology — n метеорология

meter — n счётчик; v измерять

methodically — adv систематически; методично

metric — adj метрический

midst — n середина

mightily — adv мощно

mimick — v симулировать; подражать, копировать

miner — n шахтёр

mineralogical — n минералогический

mingle — v смешивать(ся); общаться

miniature — n миниатюра; миниатюрный

misanthropy — n мизантропия

mist — n туман, дымка, мгла

mistake — n ошибка; v (mistook, mistaken) ошибаться; ошибочно принимать за

misty — adj туманный; смутный; расплывчатый

mix — n смесь; v смешивать(ся)

moan – n стон; v стонать

mock — v высмеивать; издеваться

mode — n метод, способ; режим

moderate — adj умеренный

modest — adj благопристойный; скромный, застенчивый

mollusk — n моллюск

moment — n момент, миг

momentarily — adv мгновенно, моментально, немедленно

monastic — adj монастырский

monogram — n монограмма

monotony — n монотонность, однообразие

monster — n чудовище

monstrous — adj ужасный, безобразный; чудовищный

mood — n настроение

morbid — adj болезненный, нездоровый

mosaic — n мозаика; adj мозаичный

motion — n движение; v двигать; махать

motionless — adj без движения

motto — n девиз; лозунг

movable — adj подвижной, портативный

move — v двигать(ся)

movement — n движение

mud — n грязь; слякоть; глина

muffle — v кутать; приглушать

murderous — adj смертоносный, убийственный

murky — adj мрачный, тёмный

murmur — v бормотать; шептать

muscled — adj мускулистый

muscular – adj мышечный; мускулистый; мускульный; сильный

musical — adj музыкальный

mustache — n усы

mute — adj немой; v приглушать звук

mutter — n бормотание; vбормотать

myriad — n мириады

mysterious — adj таинственный, загадочный

mystify — v мистифицировать

mythological — adj мифологический

nag — n лошадка; кляча; v пилить; брюзжать; доставать

nail — n ноготь; гвоздь; v прибивать

naked — adj голый

narrate — v рассказывать

narrative — n рассказ, повесть

narrator — n рассказчик

narrow — adj узкий; v сужать, суживать(ся)

narwhale — n нарвал

nationality — n национальность

native — n коренной житель

natural — adj естественный

naturalist — n естествоиспытатель, натуралист

nature — n природа; характер, нрав

nautical — adj морской

naval — adj морской

navigate — v ориентироваться; плавать

navigational — adj навигационный

navigator — n штурман, навигатор

nearly — adv почти

neatly — adv опрятно, аккуратно

necessary — adj необходимый

necessity — n неизбежность; необходимость

needle — n игла

needless — adj ненужный; излишний

negative – adj отрицательный; негативный

neglect – n пренебрежение; v пренебрегать

nerve — n нерв; смелость

nervous — adj нервный

nest — n гнездо; v гнездиться

net — n сеть; сетка; v ловить

nevertheless — adv однако

nightfall — n сумерки

nightmare — n кошмар

noise — n шум

noisily — adv шумно

nonsense — n бессмыслица

normal — adj нормальный

north — n север

northerly — adj северный

northward — adj северный; adv на север

northwest — n северо-запад

notice – v замечать

notorious — adj (обще)известный

nourish — v питать

noxious — adj ядовитый

numb — adj онемелый, онемевший; окоченелый; оцепенелый; v неметь

numerous — adj многочисленный

nutritious — adj питательный

nutshell — n ореховая скорлупа

oaken — adj дубовый

oar — n весло

obedience — n послушание

obedient — adj послушный

obey — v подчиняться

object — n предмет, вещь; v возражать

oblige — v обязывать; подчиняться

obliquely — adv косо

obliterate — v вычёркивать; стирать; уничтожать

oblong — n продолговатая фигура; продолговатый предмет; adj продолговатый

obscure — adj неясный, неизвестный; непонятный; v заслонять

observation — n наблюдение

observe — v наблюдать, замечать

obstacle — n препятствие

obstruct — v мешать, препятствовать

obtain — v получать

obvious — adj очевидный, ясный

occasion — n случай

occupy — v занимать

occur — v происходить; случаться

ocean — n океан

odd — adj странный

offer — n предложение; v предлагать

officer — n офицер

offshore — adj прибрежный; заграничный

oil — n масло; v смазывать; умасливать

omit — v пропускать, недоговаривать

onward — adj продвигающийся; adv вперёд; дальше

oozing — adj сочащийся

operate – v управлять, действовать; оперировать

operation — n действие; работа; функционирование

opinion – n мнение; взгляд

opponent — n оппонент, противник; соперник; adj противоположный; враждебный

opportunity — n удобный случай, возможность

oppress — v угнетать; притеснять; подавлять

oppressor — n угнетатель

opulent — adj богатый; обильный

orbit — n орбита

ordinary — adj обычный; простой

organ — n орган

organism — n организм

orient — n восток; восточный; v определять местонахождение

origin — n начало, источник

originally —adv первоначально

otter — n выдра

outcome — n результат; исход

outer — adj внешний

outlet — n выход

outline — n очертание, контур

outrageous — adj безобразный, возмутительный, вопиющий, скандальный; невероятный, неслыханный

outright — adj прямой, открытый; adv прямо, открыто

outrun (outran, outrun) — v опережать, перегонять; обгонять

outskirt — n окраина, предместье

outstretched — adj протянутый

oven — n духовой шкаф, духовка; печь

overcome (overcame, overcome) — v преодолевать; побеждать

overflow — v переливаться

overhead – adv наверху; над головой

overhear (overheard, overheard) — v подслушивать; слышать краем уха

overload — n перегрузка; v перегружать

overtake (overtook, overtaken) — v догонять, обгонять; обрушиваться, овладевать

overwhelm — v подавлять; погружать; сокрушать; переполнять

owe — v быть должным

oxygen — n кислород

oyster — n устрица

pace — n шаг; v шагать; расхаживать, прохаживаться

paddle — v грести; плыть

paddler — n гребец

painful — adj болезненный, мучительный, причиняющий боль

pair — n пара

palace — n дворец

pale — adj бледный; v бледнеть

palm — n ладонь

pamphlet — n памфлет

pane — n оконное стекло

pant — v тяжело дышать; пыхтеть; задыхаться

panther — n пантера

paralysis — n паралич

paralyze — v парализовать

particular — adj особенный

partly — adv частично, отчасти

passably — adv сносно

passageway — n коридор; проход

passenger — n пассажир

passion — n страсть; бешенство

pastime — n время(пре)провождение

path — n тропа, тропинка; путь; дорожка

patience — n терпение

pause — n перерыв; передышка; пауза; v останавливаться; делать паузу

pay (paid, paid) — v платить

peaceful — adj мирный, спокойный

peak – n пик, вершина

pearl — n жемчужина; жемчуг

pedestal — n пьедестал

peer — n сверстник; v смотреть; всматриваться

peg — n колышек; крючок; vприкреплять; укреплять

penetrate — adv проникать; проходить сквозь

penguin — n пингвин

peninsula — n полуостров

penny — n пенни

people — n народ

perceptible — adj ощутимый

perfect — adj совершенный; идеальный; v совершенствовать

perforate — v просверливать

perfume — n благоухание; аромат, духи; v наполнять благоуханием

perish — v погибать

perk — v приправлять

permanently — adv постоянно

permeate — v пропитывать; проникать; просачиваться

permission — n позволение, разрешение

permit — v разрешать

perpetual — adj вечный

person — n человек; особа, личность

personal — adj личный; персональный

persuade — v убеждать

phase — n фаза; стадия; аспект; v свёртывать

phenomenal — adj ощущаемый; феноменальный

phenomenon — n феномен, явление

philosopher — n философ

phosphorescent — adj светящийся

phosphorous — adj фосфористый

phrase — n фраза; v формулировать

physical — adj физический

physician — n врач

pick — v выбирать, подбирать; поднимать

picture — n картина; v представлять

picturesque — adj живописный

piece — n кусок

pierce — v прокалывать; пронизывать, пронзать

pig — n свинья

pile — n куча; стопка; v сваливать в кучу; складывать в стопку

pillow — n подушка

pilothouse — n рулевая рубка; ходовая рубка

pin — n булавка; шпилька; брошь; v прикалывать, пригвоздить

pious — adj набожный

pit — n яма

pitch — n тон (голоса); v бросать

pitiless — adj безжалостный

place — n место; v помещать

placidly — adv спокойно, безмятежно

plain – n равнина; adj ясный, явный; простой

plaque — n почётный значок, брошь, декоративный диск, почесть

plateau — n плато

platform — n платформа, перрон; трибуна; площадка

platter — n блюдо

plea — n заявление; аргумент, возражение

plead — v защищать; умолять

pleasant — adj приятный

pleasure – n удовольствие

plenty — n изобилие; множество

plow — v есть с жадностью

plunge — n ныряние; v погружать; окунаться

pocket — n карман; v класть в карман

poetry — n поэзия; стихи

point — n точка; момент; балл; v указывать

pointless — adj бессмысленный; бесполезный

poised — adj готовый, приготовленный

polar — adj полярный

polish — n отделка; лак для ногтей; v полировать

political — adj политический

polyp — n полип

ponder — v обдумывать; размышлять

pool — n пруд; лужа; бассейн; v стекаться; собирать

poor — adj бедный

populate — v населять

porcelain — n фарфор; adj фарфоровый

pore — n пора; v изучать

pork — n свинина

port — n порт

portrait — n портрет

position — n положение; v устанавливать; помещать; располагать

positively — adv положительно; точно

possess — v владеть

possibility — n возможность; вероятность

possible — adj возможный; вероятный

postpone — v отсрочивать; откладывать

posture — n поза; осанка; положение

potassium — n калий

pound — n фунт (=453,6 г); v пульсировать; колотить(ся)

pour — v наливать, поливать; литься; лить; раздавать

powerful — adj могущественный; мощный

powerless — adj бессильный

practical — adj практический; практичный

practice — n практика; тренировка; v практировать(ся); тренироваться

prairie — n прерия

prayer — n молитва

preamble — n преамбула

precaution — n предосторожность, предусмотрительность

precious – adjдрагоценный; дорогой

precise — adj точный, аккуратный, пунктуальный

precision — n точность; аккуратность, пунктуальность

predicament — n затруднение; затруднительное положение

predict — v предсказывать; предугадывать

predominate — v преобладать; доминировать

prefer — v предпочитать

prehistoric — adj доисторический

preliminary — n предготовительное мероприятие; adj предварительный

preparation — n приготовление; подготовка

presence —n присутствие

preserve — v сохранять; хранить

pressure — n давление; v вдавливать

pretty — adj красивый, хорошенький; красивый; adv довольно

prevent — v предотвращать

previous — adj предыдущий

price — n цена

pride — n гордость

principle — n принцип, начало

prison — n тюрьма

prisoner — n заключённый

privacy — n уединение, уединённость; частная жизнь

private — adj частный, личный

prize — n премия; награда; приз; v высоко ценить

probable — adj вероятный

probe — v исследовать; ощупывать; прощупывать

procedure — n процедура

proceed — v продолжать; исходить

proceeing — n разбирательство

process — n процесс; v обрабатывать; осмысливать

processor — n процессор

prodigious — adj потрясающий

produce — v производить

productive — adj производительный

professional — adj профессиональный

professor — n профессор

professorial — adj профессорский

profound — adj глубокий; проницательный

program — n программа; v программировать

prominent — adj выступающий; заметный; известный, важный; выдающийся

promise — n обещание; v обещать

promptly — adv быстро

pronounce — v объявлять, произносить

propel — v двигать, побуждать

propeller — n пропеллер

proper — adj собственный; надлежащий, должный

properly — adv собственно; должным образом

proportion — n пропорция, часть

propose — v предлагать

proposition — n заявление; предложение

protect — v охранять, защищать

protract — v затягивать

proud — adj гордый

province — n область, провинция

provision — n снабжение, провизия

proviso — n условие, оговорка

provoke — v вызывать, вызвать; провоцировать; побуждать

proximity — n близость; соседство

public — adj публичный; общественный

publish — v публиковать

pull — v тащить; тянуть

pulse — n пульс; v пульсировать

pump — n насос, помпа; v качать

punctilious — adj педантичный; скрупулёзный

puncture — n прокол; трещина; разлом; прокалывание; v прокалывать; протыкать

purchase — n покупка; v покупать

purely — adv чисто

purge — n очищение; очистка; v очищать

purification — n очистка, очищение

purple — n пурпур; фиолетовый цвет; adj пурпурный, фиолетовый

purpose — n цель

pursue — v преследовать; заниматься

push — v толкать, пихать, прилагать усилия

put (put, put) — v класть; вешать; ставить; помещать; приводить

puzzle — n загадка; v озадачивать

quadrilateral — n четырёхугольник; adj четырёхсторонный

quadruped — n четвероногое (животное).

quarter — n четверть

quest — n поиски

quickness — n быстрота

race — n гонка; раса; v нестись

radiance — n сияние

radiant — adj сияющий

radius — adj радиус

rage — n гнев, ярость; v бушевать; свирепствовать

rail — n перекладина, рейка; рельс; поручни, ограждение

rain — n дождь; идти (о дожде)

raise — v поднимать

rammed — adj утрамбованный

rampage — n буйство, разгул; v буйствовать, буянить

random — n наобум, наугад, наудачу; adj случайный

rare — adj редкий

rarely — adv редко

rarity — n редкость

rascal — n мошенник, плут

rate — n норма, размер; скорость

rattle — n треск, грохот; v грохотать; дребезжать; греметь; шуметь

readable — adj легко читаемый

readily — adv охотно; легко, без труда

readiness — n готовность

readjust — v поправлять; исправлять; приспосабливать

reality — n действительность

realize — v осознавать, соображать

realm — n королевство; сфера

reappear — v снова появляться

rear — n задняя часть/сторона; тыл; v воздвигать

reason — n причина, разум; v доказывать; убеждать; рассуждать

reassure — v успокаивать; заверять, убеждать

recall — v вспоминать

recede — v отступать, отходить

receive — v получать

recipient — n получатель

recognize — v узнавать, признавать

recoil — v отскочить, отпрянуть; отшатнуться

recollection — n память; воспоминание

record — n документ; запись; отчёт, характеристика; протокол; v записывать; регистрировать

recover — v выздоравливать; восстанавливаться, приходить в себя; возвращать

reddish — adj рыжеватый

reduce — v уменьшать; ослаблять

reef — n риф; подводная скала

reenact — v снова воссоздавать; снова предписывать

reenter — v снова войти

reexamination — n пересмотр; повторное рассмотрение

refer — v отсылать; направлять; приписывать, справляться, ссылаться; обращаться

refined — adj утонченный

reflect — v отражать; думать

refresh — v освежать; обновлять

refuge — n убежище; пристанище

refuse — v отказывать(ся)

regain — v получать обратно; восстанавливать

regard — n взгляд; отношение; v разглядывать

regret — n сожаление; v сожалеть

regular — adj регулярный, нормальный; обычный, очередной

regulate — v регулировать; контролировать; настраивать

regulation — n регулирование; упорядочение; выверка, регулировка

reign — n царствование, власть; v царствовать; сдерживать

reinforce — v усиливать; укреплять

rejoin — v отвечать; возражать; присоединяться

relate — v иметь отношение; относиться

relation — n связь, отношение

relationship — n связь, отношение

release — v освобождать, избавлять; отпускать