Chapter 19

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.