I Make My Decision

Three seconds before the arrival of J. B. Hobson’s letter, I no more thought of pursuing the unicorn than of attempting the passage of the North Sea. Three seconds after reading the letter of the honourable Secretary of Marine, I felt that my true vocation, the sole end of my life, was to chase this disturbing monster, and purge it from the world.

Three seconds before J. B. Hobson’s letter arrived, I was no more inclined to pursue the unicorn than to cross the North Sea. Three seconds after reading the letter from the honorable Secretary of Marine, I felt I had found my true calling. The sole purpose of my life was to chase this troubling monster and rid the world of it.

But I had just returned from a fatiguing journey, weary and longing for repose. I aspired to nothing more than again seeing my country, my friends, my little lodging by the Jardin des Plantes, my dear and precious collections. But nothing could keep me back! I forgot all—fatigue, friends and collections—and accepted without hesitation the offer of the American Government.

But I had just returned from an exhausting journey. I was tired and longing for rest. All I wanted was to see my country, my friends, my little home near the Jardin des Plantes, and my dear, precious collections again. But nothing could hold me back! I forgot everything: my fatigue, my friends, and my collections. I accepted the American Government's offer without hesitation.

“Besides,” thought I, “all roads lead back to Europe (for my particular benefit), and I will not hurry me towards the coast of France. This worthy animal may allow itself to be caught in the seas of Europe (for my particular benefit), and I will not bring back less than half a yard of his ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History.” But in the meanwhile I must seek this narwhal in the North Pacific Ocean, which, to return to France, was taking the road to the antipodes.

“Besides,” I thought, “all roads lead back to Europe (for my particular benefit). And I will not hurry toward the coast of France. This worthy animal may allow itself to be caught in European waters (for my particular benefit). And I will bring back at least half a yard of its ivory halberd to the Museum of Natural History.” But meanwhile, I had to look for the narwhal in the North Pacific Ocean. To return to France, that meant taking the road to the antipodes.

“Conseil,” I called in an impatient voice.

“Conseil,” I called impatiently.

Conseil was my servant, a true, devoted Flemish boy, who had accompanied me in all my travels. I liked him, and he returned the liking well. He was phlegmatic by nature, regular from principle, zealous from habit, evincing little disturbance at the different surprises of life, very quick with his hands, and apt at any service required of him; and, despite his name, never giving advice—even when asked for it.

Conseil was my servant, a truly devoted Flemish boy who had accompanied me on all my travels. I liked him, and he liked me just as much. He was calm by nature, orderly on principle, and hardworking out of habit. Life’s surprises rarely disturbed him. He was quick with his hands and capable of any service I required. Yet despite his name, he never gave advice, even when asked for it.

Conseil had followed me for the last ten years wherever science led. Never once did he complain of the length or fatigue of a journey, never make an objection to pack his portmanteau for whatever country it might be, or however far away, whether China or Congo. Besides all this, he had good health, which defied all sickness, and solid muscles, but no nerves; good morals are understood. This boy was thirty years old, and his age to that of his master as fifteen to twenty. May I be excused for saying that I was forty years old?

Conseil had followed me wherever science led for the past ten years. He never complained about a journey’s length or hardships. He never objected to packing his suitcase, no matter where we were going or how far away, whether China or Congo. Besides, he was healthy enough to resist all illness. He had strong muscles and nerves of steel. His good character goes without saying. This boy was thirty years old, making his age fifteen to twenty compared with his master’s. May I be excused for saying that I was forty?

But Conseil had one fault: he was ceremonious to a degree, and would never speak to me but in the third person, which was sometimes provoking.

But Conseil had one fault: he was extremely formal. He would only address me in the third person, which sometimes annoyed me.

“Conseil,” said I again, beginning with feverish hands to make preparations for my departure.

“Conseil,” I said again, beginning to prepare for my departure with feverish hands.

Certainly I was sure of this devoted boy. As a rule, I never asked him if it were convenient for him or not to follow me in my travels; but this time the expedition in question might be prolonged, and the enterprise might be hazardous in pursuit of an animal capable of sinking a frigate as easily as a nutshell. Here there was matter for reflection even to the most impassive man in the world. What would Conseil say?

Of course, I was sure I could count on this devoted boy. I usually never asked whether it was convenient for him to follow me on my travels. But this expedition might take a long time. And pursuing an animal capable of sinking a frigate as easily as a nutshell might be dangerous. Even the most unruffled man in the world would have to think about that. What would Conseil say?

“Conseil,” I called a third time.

“Conseil,” I called for the third time.

Conseil appeared.

Conseil appeared.

“Did you call, sir?” said he, entering.

“Did you call, sir?” he said as he entered.

“Yes, my boy; make preparations for me and yourself too. We leave in two hours.”

“Yes, my boy. Get things ready for both of us. We leave in two hours.”

“As you please, sir,” replied Conseil, quietly.

“Whatever you wish, sir,” Conseil replied quietly.

“Not an instant to lose;—lock in my trunk all travelling utensils, coats, shirts, and stockings—without counting, as many as you can, and make haste.”

“There’s no time to lose. Pack all my travel supplies in my trunk. Add as many coats, shirts, and stockings as you can without counting them. Hurry.”

“And your collections, sir?” observed Conseil.

“And what about your collections, sir?” asked Conseil.

“We will think of them by and by.”

“We’ll think about them later.”

“What! the archiotherium, the hyracotherium, the oreodons, the cheropotamus, and the other skins?”

“What! The archiotherium, the hyracotherium, the oreodons, the cheropotamus, and the other skins?”

“They will keep them at the hotel.”

“They’ll keep them at the hotel.”

“And your live Babiroussa, sir?”

“And your live Babiroussa, sir?”

“They will feed it during our absence; besides, I will give orders to forward our menagerie to France.”

“They will feed it while we are away. Besides, I will order our collection of animals to be sent to France.”

“We are not returning to Paris, then?” said Conseil.

“So we’re not going back to Paris?” said Conseil.

“Oh! certainly,” I answered, evasively, “by making a curve.”

“Oh! Certainly,” I answered evasively, “by making a curve.”

“Will the curve please you, sir?”

“Will you like the curve, sir?”

“Oh! it will be nothing; not quite so direct a road, that is all. We take our passage in the Abraham Lincoln.”

“Oh! It will be nothing. The route just won't be quite as direct, that's all. We'll travel on the Abraham Lincoln.”

“As you think proper, sir,” coolly replied Conseil.

“Whatever you think is best, sir,” Conseil replied calmly.

“You see, my friend, it has to do with the monster—the famous narwhal. We are going to purge it from the seas. The author of a work in quarto in two volumes, on the ‘Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds’ cannot forbear embarking with Commander Farragut. A glorious mission, but a dangerous one! We cannot tell where we may go; these animals can be very capricious. But we will go whether or no; we have got a captain who is pretty wide-awake.”

“You see, my friend, this is about the monster, the famous narwhal. We are going to rid the seas of it. The author of a two-volume quarto work called ‘Mysteries of the Great Submarine Grounds’ cannot resist sailing with Commander Farragut. It is a glorious mission, but a dangerous one! We cannot tell where we may go. These animals can be very unpredictable. But we will go anyway. We have a captain who is pretty alert.”

I opened a credit account for Babiroussa, and, Conseil following, I jumped into a cab. Our luggage was transported to the deck of the frigate immediately. I hastened on board and asked for Commander Farragut. One of the sailors conducted me to the poop, where I found myself in the presence of a good-looking officer, who held out his hand to me.

I opened a credit account for Babiroussa and jumped into a cab, with Conseil following me. Our luggage was taken straight to the frigate’s deck. I hurried aboard and asked for Commander Farragut. A sailor led me to the poop deck, where a handsome officer held out his hand to me.

“Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?” said he.

“Monsieur Pierre Aronnax?” he said.

“Himself,” replied I; “Commander Farragut?”

“Himself,” I replied. “Commander Farragut?”

“You are welcome, Professor; your cabin is ready for you.”

“Welcome, Professor. Your cabin is ready for you.”

I bowed, and desired to be conducted to the cabin destined for me.

I bowed and asked to be shown to my cabin.

The Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped for her new destination. She was a frigate of great speed, fitted with high-pressure engines which admitted a pressure of seven atmospheres. Under this the Abraham Lincoln attained the mean speed of nearly eighteen knots and a third an hour—a considerable speed, but, nevertheless, insufficient to grapple with this gigantic cetacean.

The Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped for her new mission. She was a very fast frigate, fitted with high-pressure engines that could handle seven atmospheres of pressure. With these engines, the Abraham Lincoln reached an average speed of nearly eighteen and a third knots. That was a considerable speed, but still not enough to engage this gigantic cetacean.

The interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to its nautical qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin, which was in the after part, opening upon the gunroom.

The frigate’s interior matched its qualities at sea. I was very satisfied with my cabin, which was at the rear and opened onto the gunroom.

“We shall be well off here,” said I to Conseil.

“We'll be comfortable here,” I said to Conseil.

“As well, by your honour’s leave, as a hermit-crab in the shell of a whelk,” said Conseil.

“As well, if I may say so, as a hermit crab in a whelk’s shell,” said Conseil.

I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted the poop in order to survey the preparations for departure.

I left Conseil to put our trunks away and went back up to the rear deck to watch the preparations for departure.

At that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the last moorings to be cast loose which held the Abraham Lincoln to the pier of Brooklyn. So in a quarter of an hour, perhaps less, the frigate would have sailed without me. I should have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and incredible expedition, the recital of which may well meet with some scepticism.

At that moment, Commander Farragut was ordering the last ropes holding the Abraham Lincoln to the Brooklyn pier to be untied. So the frigate would have sailed without me in fifteen minutes, perhaps less. I would have missed this extraordinary, supernatural, and incredible expedition. My account of it may well be met with some skepticism.

But Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an hour in scouring the seas in which the animal had been sighted. He sent for the engineer.

But Commander Farragut would not waste a day or an hour searching the seas where the animal had been seen. He sent for the engineer.

“Is the steam full on?” asked he.

“Is the steam at full power?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer.

“Yes, sir,” the engineer replied.

“Go ahead,” cried Commander Farragut.

“Go ahead,” shouted Commander Farragut.

The quay of Brooklyn, and all that part of New York bordering on the East River, was crowded with spectators. Three cheers burst successively from five hundred thousand throats; thousands of handkerchiefs were waved above the heads of the compact mass, saluting the Abraham Lincoln, until she reached the waters of the Hudson, at the point of that elongated peninsula which forms the town of New York. Then the frigate, following the coast of New Jersey along the right bank of the beautiful river, covered with villas, passed between the forts, which saluted her with their heaviest guns. The Abraham Lincoln answered by hoisting the American colours three times, whose thirty-nine stars shone resplendent from the mizzen-peak; then modifying its speed to take the narrow channel marked by buoys placed in the inner bay formed by Sandy Hook Point, it coasted the long sandy beach, where some thousands of spectators gave it one final cheer. The escort of boats and tenders still followed the frigate, and did not leave her until they came abreast of the lightship, whose two lights marked the entrance of New York Channel.

The Brooklyn waterfront and all the New York waterfront along the East River were crowded with spectators. Half a million people gave three cheers in succession. Thousands of handkerchiefs waved above the tightly packed crowd in salute to the Abraham Lincoln. The cheering and waving continued until the frigate reached the Hudson, at the tip of the long peninsula that forms New York. Then the frigate followed the New Jersey shore along the right bank of the beautiful river, which was lined with villas. It passed between the forts, which saluted it with their heaviest guns. The Abraham Lincoln responded by raising the American flag three times. Its thirty-nine stars shone brightly from the top of the mizzenmast. The frigate then adjusted its speed to enter the narrow channel marked by buoys in the inner bay formed by Sandy Hook Point. It sailed along the long sandy beach, where a few thousand spectators gave it one final cheer. The escort of boats and tenders continued to follow the frigate. They did not leave until they reached the lightship, whose two lights marked the entrance to New York Channel.

Six bells struck, the pilot got into his boat, and rejoined the little schooner which was waiting under our lee, the fires were made up, the screw beat the waves more rapidly, the frigate skirted the low yellow coast of Long Island; and at eight bells, after having lost sight in the north-west of the lights of Fire Island, she ran at full steam on to the dark waters of the Atlantic.

Six bells rang, and the pilot got into his boat and returned to the little schooner waiting in our shelter. The fires were stoked, the propeller turned faster, and the frigate sailed along the low, yellow coast of Long Island. At eight bells, the lights of Fire Island disappeared to the northwest. The frigate then sailed at full steam into the dark waters of the Atlantic.