oating prison is, then, our tomb--our coffin, in which we must
live and die?"

"Call it what you will," replied the captain. "You have obtained the
secret of my existence. Do you think I could ever allow you to revisit
the world, to let it be known through every newspaper how I pass my
life?"

"How are we to address you, sir?"

"My name is Vindex. By my men I am called the Wizard of the Sea."

"Very well, Captain Vindex of the _Searcher_," said Mont, "we must make
the best of our situation, but I will never give my word that I will not
attempt to escape."

"I like you, boy, for your honesty," said the Wizard of the Sea, "though
I warn you that if you are caught in the attempt, you will be instantly
put to death."

"To death? You dare not!"

The captain laughed in a wild, weird manner.

"Dare not!" he said. "Foolish lad, there are no laws for me. I am the
sole master here. My black slaves only live to do my bidding. What is
your life or death to me? I have no more to say at present. Follow this
negro into another cabin, where a repast awaits you."

He called to someone outside, and, bowing politely, went away, while the
four companions were conducted to a dining room handsomely furnished
and lighted by an electric lamp.

Various preparations invited their attention. The dinner service was of
silver, and everything denoted immense wealth on the part of the owner.

The negro waited upon them attentively.

"What's your name?" asked Mont.

"Me name One, massa."

"One!"

"Yes, massa. There twelve slaves on board this ship, and all have figure
names, me One, other nigger Two, other Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven,
Eight, and so on up to Twelve."

"That's a queer idea," said our hero; "fancy calling out for your
servant, and saying, 'Here, Nine, I want you,' or 'I say, Three, do
this'!"

"It is my opinion," exclaimed the professor, "that Captain Vindex is a
very remarkable man--the most remarkable, in fact, that ever lived. He
has invented a singular ship which can go under the sea at will, but why
not? Was not the invention of steam engines laughed at, as well as the
invention of gas? Who, a hundred years ago, would have believed in the
electric telegraph, by means of which we send a message to the end of
the earth in a minute?"

"Very true," replied Mont. "And don't forget the telephone, and the
submarine boat the government is trying to build. It's a pity a man of
such genius should shut himself up lik