e men, he had no right to punish thus.
He had made me, if not an accomplice, at least a witness of his
vengeance. At eleven the electric light reappeared. I passed into the
saloon. It was deserted. I consulted the different instruments. The
Nautilus was flying northward at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour,
now on the surface, and now thirty feet below it. On taking the
bearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing the mouth of the
Manche, and that our course was hurrying us towards the northern seas
at a frightful speed. That night we had crossed two hundred leagues of
the Atlantic. The shadows fell, and the sea was covered with darkness
until the rising of the moon. I went to my room, but could not sleep.
I was troubled with dreadful nightmare. The horrible scene of
destruction was continually before my eyes. From that day, who could
tell into what part of the North Atlantic basin the Nautilus would take
us? Still with unaccountable speed. Still in the midst of these
northern fogs. Would it touch at Spitzbergen, or on the shores of Nova
Zembla? Should we explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Sea
of Kara, the Gulf of Obi, the Archipelago of Liarrov, and the unknown
coast of Asia? I could not say. I could no longer judge of the time
that was passing. The clocks had been stopped on board. It seemed, as
in polar countries, that night and day no longer followed their regular
course. I felt myself being drawn into that strange region where the
foundered imagination of Edgar Poe roamed at will. Like the fabulous
Gordon Pym, at every moment I expected to see "that veiled human
figure, of larger proportions than those of any inhabitant of the
earth, thrown across the cataract which defends the approach to the
pole." I estimated (though, perhaps, I may be mistaken)--I estimated
this adventurous course of the Nautilus to have lasted fifteen or
twenty days. And I know not how much longer it might have lasted, had
it not been for the catastrophe which ended this voyage. Of Captain
Nemo I saw nothing whatever now, nor of his second. Not a man of the
crew was visible for an instant. The Nautilus was almost incessantly
under water. When we came to the surface to renew the air, the panels
opened and shut mechanically. There were no more marks on the
planisphere. I knew not where we were. And the Canadian, too, his
strength and patience at an end, appeared no more. Conseil could not
draw a