by Jules Verne
"What good would it do?" Conseil asked.
"Complaining doesn't have to do good, it just feels good!And if these pirates--I say pirates out of consideration for theprofessor's feelings, since he doesn't want us to call them cannibals--if these pirates think they're going to smother me in this cagewithout hearing what cusswords spice up my outbursts, they've gotanother think coming! Look here, Professor Aronnax, speak frankly.How long do you figure they'll keep us in this iron box?"
"To tell the truth, friend Land, I know little more about itthan you do."
"But in a nutshell, what do you suppose is going on?"
"My supposition is that sheer chance has made us privy to animportant secret. Now then, if the crew of this underwaterboat have a personal interest in keeping that secret,and if their personal interest is more important than the livesof three men, I believe that our very existence is in jeopardy.If such is not the case, then at the first available opportunity,this monster that has swallowed us will return us to the worldinhabited by our own kind."
"Unless they recruit us to serve on the crew," Conseil said,"and keep us here--"
"Till the moment," Ned Land answered, "when some frigate that's fasteror smarter than the Abraham Lincoln captures this den of buccaneers,then hangs all of us by the neck from the tip of a mainmast yardarm!"
"Well thought out, Mr. Land," I replied. "But as yet, I don't believewe've been tendered any enlistment offers. Consequently, it's pointlessto argue about what tactics we should pursue in such a case.I repeat: let's wait, 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, not wantingto give in. "There is something we can do."
"Oh? And what, Mr. Land?"
"Break out of here!"
"Breaking out of a prison on shore is difficult enough, but withan underwater prison, it strikes me as completely unworkable."
"Come now, Ned my friend," Conseil asked, "how would you answermaster's objection? I refuse to believe that an American is atthe end of his tether."
Visibly baffled, the harpooner said nothing. Under the conditionsin which fate had left us, it was absolutely impossible to escape.But a Canadian's wit is half French, and Mr. Ned Land made thisclear in his reply.
"So, Professor Aronnax," he went on after thinking for a few moments,"you haven't figured out what people do when they can't escapefrom their prison?"
"No, my friend."
"Easy. They fix things so they stay there."
"Of course!" Conseil put in. "Since we're deep in the ocean,being inside this boat is vastly preferable to being above itor below it!"
"But we fix things by kicking out all the jailers, guards, and wardens,"Ned Land added.
"What's this, Ned?" I asked. "You'd seriously consider takingover this craft?"
"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.If there are only about twenty men on board this machine, I don'tthink they can stave off two Frenchmen and a Canadian!"
It seemed wiser to accept the harpooner's proposition than to debate it.Accordingly, I was content to reply:
"Let such circumstances come, Mr. Land, and we'll see. But until then,I beg you to control your impatience. We need to act shrewdly,and your flare-ups won't give rise to any promising opportunities.So swear to me that you'll accept our situation without throwinga tantrum over it."
"I give you my word, professor," Ned Land replied in anunenthusiastic tone. "No vehement phrases will leave my mouth,no vicious gestures will give my feelings away, not even when theydon't feed us on time."
"I have your word, Ned," I answered the Canadian.
Then our conversation petered out, and each of us withdrewinto his own thoughts. For my part, despite the harpooner'sconfident talk, I admit that I entertained no illusions.I had no faith in those promising opportunities that Ned Land mentioned.To operate with such efficiency, this underwater boat had to havea sizeable crew, so if it came to a physical contest, we wouldbe facing an overwhelming opponent. Besides, before we coulddo anything, we had to be free, and that we definitely were not.I didn't see any way out of this sheet-iron, hermetically sealed cell.And if the strange commander of this boat did have a secret to keep--which seemed rather likely--he would never give us freedom of movementaboard his vessel. Now then, would he resort to violence in orderto be rid of us, or would he drop us off one day on some remote coast?There lay the unknown. All these hypotheses seemed extremelyplausible to me, and to hope for freedom through use of force,you had to be a harpooner.
I realized, moreover, that Ned Land's brooding was gettinghim madder by the minute. Little by little, I heard thoseaforesaid cusswords welling up in the depths of his gullet,and I saw his movements turn threatening again. He stood up,pacing in circles like a wild beast in a cage, striking the wallswith his foot and fist. Meanwhile the hours passed, our hungernagged unmercifully, and this time the steward did not appear.Which amounted to forgetting our castaway status for much too long,if they really had good intentions toward us.
Tortured by the growling of his well-built stomach, Ned Landwas getting more and more riled, and despite his word of honor,I was in real dread of an explosion when he stood in the presenceof one of the men on board.
For two more hours Ned Land's rage increased. The Canadian shoutedand pleaded, but to no avail. The sheet-iron walls were deaf.I didn't hear a single sound inside this dead-seeming boat.The vessel hadn't stirred, because I obviously would have felt its hullvibrating under the influence of the propeller. It had undoubtedlysunk into the watery deep and no longer belonged to the outside world.All this dismal silence was terrifying.
As for our neglect, our isolation in the depths of this cell,I was afraid to guess at how long it might last. Little by little,hopes I had entertained after our interview with the ship's commanderwere fading away. The gentleness of the man's gaze, the generosityexpressed in his facial features, the nobility of his bearing,all vanished from my memory. I saw this mystifying individualanew for what he inevitably must be: cruel and merciless.I viewed him as outside humanity, beyond all feelings of compassion,the implacable foe of his fellow man, toward whom he must have swornan undying hate!
But even so, was the man going to let us die of starvation,locked up in this cramped prison, exposed to those horribletemptations to which people are driven by extreme hunger?This grim possibility took on a dreadful intensity in my mind,and fired by my imagination, I felt an unreasoning terror run through me.Conseil stayed calm. Ned Land bellowed.
Just then a noise was audible outside. Footsteps rang onthe metal tiling. The locks were turned, the door opened,the steward appeared.
Before I could make a single movement to prevent him, the Canadianrushed at the poor man, threw him down, held him by the throat.The steward was choking in the grip of those powerful hands.
Conseil was already trying to loosen the harpooner's hands from hishalf-suffocated victim, and I had gone to join in the rescue, when Iwas abruptly nailed to the spot by these words pronounced in French:
"Calm down, Mr. Land! And you, professor, kindly listen to me!"
CHAPTER 10
The Man of the Waters
IT WAS THE ship's commander who had just spoken.
At these words Ned Land stood up quickly. Nearly strangled,the steward staggered out at a signal from his superior;but such was the commander's authority aboard his vessel,not one gesture gave away the resentment that this man must havefelt toward the Canadian. In silence we waited for the outcomeof this scene; Conseil, in spite of himself, seemed almost fascinated,I was stunned.
Arms crossed, leaning against a corner of the table, the commanderstudied us with great care. Was he reluctant to speak further?Did he regret those words he had just pronounced in French? You wouldhave
thought so.
After a few moments of silence, which none of us would havedreamed of interrupting:
"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 and then think things over.Your four versions of the same narrative, perfectly consistent byand large, established your personal identities for me. I now knowthat sheer chance has placed in my presence Professor Pierre Aronnax,specialist in natural history at the Paris Museum and entrusted witha scientific mission abroad, his manservant 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.So no answer was called for. This man expressed himself with perfectease and without a trace of an accent. His phrasing was clear,his words well chosen, his facility in elocution remarkable.And yet, to me, he didn't have "the feel" of a fellow countryman.
He went on with the conversation as follows:
"No doubt, sir, you've felt that I waited rather too long beforepaying you this second visit. After discovering your identities,I wanted to weigh carefully what policy to pursue toward you.I had great difficulty deciding. Some extremely inconvenientcircumstances have brought you into the presence of a man whohas cut himself off from humanity. Your coming has disruptedmy 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 your shells bounced off my ship's hull?Was it unintentionally that Mr. Ned Land hit me with his harpoon?"
I detected a controlled irritation in these words. But there wasa perfectly natural reply to these charges, and I made it.
"Sir," I said, "you're surely unaware of the discussions that havetaken place in Europe and America with yourself as the subject.You don't realize that various accidents, caused by collisions with yourunderwater machine, have aroused public passions on those two continents.I'll spare you the innumerable hypotheses with which we've triedto explain this inexplicable phenomenon, whose secret is yours alone.But please understand that the Abraham Lincoln chased you overthe Pacific high seas in the belief it was hunting some powerfulmarine monster, which had to be purged from the ocean at all cost."
A half smile curled the commander's lips; then, in a calmer tone:
"Professor Aronnax," he replied, "do you dare claim that your frigatewouldn't have chased and cannonaded an underwater boat as readilyas a monster?"
This question baffled me, since Commander Farragut would certainlyhave shown no such hesitation. He would have seen it as his swornduty to destroy a contrivance of this kind just as promptlyas a gigantic narwhale.
"So you understand, sir," the stranger went on, "that I have a rightto treat you as my enemy."
I kept quiet, with good reason. What was the use of debating sucha proposition, when superior force can wipe out the best arguments?
"It took me a good while to decide," the commander went on."Nothing obliged me to grant you hospitality. If I were to part companywith you, I'd have no personal interest in ever seeing you again.I could put you back on the platform of this ship that has servedas your refuge. I could sink under the sea, and I could forgetyou 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 youterm a civilized man! I've severed all ties with society,for reasons that I alone have the right to appreciate.Therefore I obey none of its regulations, and I insist that younever invoke them in front of me!"
This was plain speaking. A flash of anger and scorn lit up thestranger's eyes, and I glimpsed a fearsome past in this man's life.Not only had he placed himself beyond human laws, he had renderedhimself independent, out of all reach, free in the strictest senseof the word! For who would dare chase him to the depths of the seawhen he thwarted all attacks on the surface? What ship couldwithstand a collision with his underwater Monitor? What armor plate,no matter how heavy, could bear the thrusts of his spur?No man among men could call him to account for his actions.God, if he believed in Him, his conscience if he had one--these were the only judges to whom he was answerable.
These thoughts swiftly crossed my mind while this strange individualfell silent, like someone completely self-absorbed. I regarded himwith a mixture of fear and fascination, in the same way, no doubt,that Oedipus regarded the Sphinx.
After a fairly long silence, the commander went on with our conversation.
"So I had difficulty deciding," he said. "But I concludedthat my personal interests could be reconciled with thatnatural compassion to which every human being has a right.Since fate has brought you here, you'll stay aboard my vessel.You'll be free here, and in exchange for that freedom,moreover totally related to it, 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 honestman can accept?"
"Yes, sir. Just this. It's possible that certain unforeseen eventsmay force me to confine you to your cabins for some hours, or even forsome days as the case may be. Since I prefer never to use violence,I expect from you in such a case, even more than in any other,your unquestioning obedience. By acting in this way, I shield youfrom complicity, I absolve you of all responsibility, since I myselfmake it impossible for you to see what you aren't meant to see.Do you accept this condition?"
So things happened on board that were quite odd to say the least,things never to be seen by people not placing themselves beyondsociety's laws! Among all the surprises the future had in storefor me, this would not be the mildest.
"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 observeeverything happening here--except under certain rare circumstances--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 freedomthat 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 relativesever again?"
"Yes, sir. But giving up that intolerable earthly yoke that somemen call freedom is perhaps less painful than you think!"
"By thunder!" Ned Land shouted. "I'll never promise I won't trygetting out of here!"
"I didn't ask for such a promise, Mr. Land," the commander replied coldly.
"Sir," I replied, flaring up in spite of myself, "you're takingunfair advantage of us! This is sheer cruelty!"
"No, sir, it's an act of mercy! You're my prisoners of war!I've cared for you when, with a single word, I could plunge you backinto the ocean depths! You attacked me! You've just stumbled ona secret no living man must probe, the secret of my entire existence!Do you think I'll send you back to a world that must know nothingmore of me? Never! By keeping you on board, it isn't you whom Icare for, it's me!"
These words indicated that the commander pursued a policyimpervious to arguments.
"Then, sir," I went on, "you give us, quite simply, a choice betweenlife and death?"
"Quite simply."
"My friends," I said, "to a question couched in these terms,our answer can be taken for granted. But no solemn promises bindus to the commander of this vessel."
"None, sir," the str
anger 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. You, if not your companions, won't perhaps complaintoo much about the stroke of fate that has brought us together.Among the books that make up my favorite reading, you'll find the workyou've published on the great ocean depths. I've pored over it.You've taken your studies as far as terrestrial science can go.But you don't know everything because you haven't seen everything.Let me tell you, professor, you won't regret the time you spendaboard my vessel. You're going to voyage through a land of wonders.Stunned amazement will probably be your habitual state of mind.It will be a long while before you tire of the sights constantly beforeyour eyes. I'm going to make another underwater tour of the world--perhaps my last, who knows?--and I'll review everything I've studiedin the depths of these seas that I've crossed so often, and youcan be my fellow student. Starting this very day, you'll entera new element, you'll see what no human being has ever seen before--since my men and I no longer count--and thanks to me, you're goingto learn the ultimate secrets of our planet."
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 noteven this sublime experience was worth the loss of my freedom.Besides, I counted on the future to resolve this important question.So I was content to reply:
