“A Sick Man’s Dreams”

The following day 10th January, the Nautilus continued her course between two seas, but with such remarkable speed that I could not estimate it at less than thirty-five miles an hour. The rapidity of her screw was such that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. When I reflected that this marvellous electric agent, after having afforded motion, heat, and light to the Nautilus, still protected her from outward attack, and transformed her into an ark of safety which no profane hand might touch without being thunderstricken, my admiration was unbounded, and from the structure it extended to the engineer who had called it into existence.

The next day, January 10, the Nautilus continued her course between two seas. She was moving so fast that I estimated her speed at no less than thirty-five miles an hour. Her propeller spun so quickly that I could neither follow nor count its revolutions. This marvelous electric power gave the Nautilus motion, heat, and light. It also protected her from outside attack, turning her into an ark of safety. No unauthorized hand could touch her without being struck by electricity. When I thought of all this, my admiration knew no bounds. It extended from the vessel to the engineer who had brought her into being.

Our course was directed to the west, and on the 11th of January we doubled Cape Wessel, situation in 135° long. and 10° north lat., which forms the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous, but more equalised, and marked on the chart with extreme precision. The Nautilus easily avoided the breakers of Money to port and the Victoria reefs to starboard, placed at 130° long. and on the 10th parallel, which we strictly followed.

We headed west, and on January 11 we rounded Cape Wessel, at 135° longitude and 10° north latitude. The cape forms the eastern point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The reefs were still numerous, but more evenly distributed and marked on the chart with great precision. The Nautilus easily avoided the Money breakers to port and the Victoria reefs to starboard. These lay at 130° longitude and on the 10th parallel, which we followed closely.

On the 13th of January, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor, and recognised the island of that name in 122° long.

On January 13, Captain Nemo arrived in the Sea of Timor and recognized Timor at 122° longitude.

From this point the direction of the Nautilus inclined towards the south-west. Her head was set for the Indian Ocean. Where would the fancy of Captain Nemo carry us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or would he approach again the shores of Europe? Improbable conjectures both, to a man who fled from inhabited continents. Then would he descend to the south? Was he going to double the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he come back at last to the Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail free and independently? Time would show.

From this point, the Nautilus turned southwest, heading for the Indian Ocean. Where would Captain Nemo’s fancy take us next? Would he return to the coast of Asia or approach the shores of Europe again? Both seemed unlikely for a man who fled from inhabited continents. Would he head south instead? Would he round the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and finally go as far as the Antarctic pole? Would he eventually return to the Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail freely and independently? Time would tell.

After having skirted the sands of Cartier, of Hibernia, Seringapatam, and Scott, last efforts of the solid against the liquid element, on the 14th of January we lost sight of land altogether. The speed of the Nautilus was considerably abated, and with irregular course she sometimes swam in the bosom of the waters, sometimes floated on their surface.

After passing the sands of Cartier, Hibernia, Seringapatam, and Scott, we lost sight of land altogether on January 14. These sands were the last traces of solid ground against the sea. The Nautilus slowed considerably and followed an irregular course. Sometimes she swam deep in the water, and sometimes she floated on the surface.

During this period of the voyage, Captain Nemo made some interesting experiments on the varied temperature of the sea, in different beds. Under ordinary conditions these observations are made by means of rather complicated instruments, and with somewhat doubtful results, by means of thermometrical sounding-leads, the glasses often breaking under the pressure of the water, or an apparatus grounded on the variations of the resistance of metals to the electric currents. Results so obtained could not be correctly calculated. On the contrary, Captain Nemo went himself to test the temperature in the depths of the sea, and his thermometer, placed in communication with the different sheets of water, gave him the required degree immediately and accurately.

During this part of the voyage, Captain Nemo conducted some interesting experiments on sea temperatures at different depths. Usually, such measurements require rather complicated instruments and produce somewhat doubtful results. One method uses sounding leads fitted with thermometers, whose glass often breaks under the water pressure. Another uses an apparatus based on changes in the resistance of metals to electric currents. Results obtained by these methods could not be calculated accurately. Captain Nemo, by contrast, went down himself to test the temperature in the depths of the sea. His thermometer came into contact with the different layers of water and immediately gave him an accurate reading.

It was thus that, either by overloading her reservoirs or by descending obliquely by means of her inclined planes, the Nautilus successively attained the depth of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand yards, and the definite result of this experience was that the sea preserved an average temperature of four degrees and a half at a depth of five thousand fathoms under all latitudes.

The Nautilus reached depths of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand yards in succession. It did this either by filling its reservoirs beyond their usual capacity or by descending at an angle using its inclined planes. The experiment showed that, at all latitudes, the sea maintained an average temperature of four and a half degrees at a depth of five thousand fathoms.

On the 16th of January, the Nautilus seemed becalmed only a few yards beneath the surface of the waves. Her electric apparatus remained inactive and her motionless screw left her to drift at the mercy of the currents. I supposed that the crew was occupied with interior repairs, rendered necessary by the violence of the mechanical movements of the machine.

On January 16, the Nautilus seemed to be drifting just a few yards beneath the waves. Its electrical equipment was inactive, and its propeller was still, leaving it at the mercy of the currents. I assumed the crew was making repairs inside the vessel. The violent movements of the machinery had made these repairs necessary.

My companions and I then witnessed a curious spectacle. The hatches of the saloon were open, and, as the beacon light of the Nautilus was not in action, a dim obscurity reigned in the midst of the waters. I observed the state of the sea, under these conditions, and the largest fish appeared to me no more than scarcely defined shadows, when the Nautilus found herself suddenly transported into full light. I thought at first that the beacon had been lighted, and was casting its electric radiance into the liquid mass. I was mistaken, and after a rapid survey perceived my error.

My companions and I then saw a curious sight. The saloon hatches were open, and the waters were dim because the Nautilus’s searchlight was off. I watched the sea in the dim light. Even the largest fish appeared to me as barely visible shadows. Then the Nautilus suddenly found herself in full light. At first, I thought the searchlight had been switched on, casting its electric glow through the water. But I was wrong. A quick look around showed me my mistake.

The Nautilus floated in the midst of a phosphorescent bed which, in this obscurity, became quite dazzling. It was produced by myriads of luminous animalculae, whose brilliancy was increased as they glided over the metallic hull of the vessel. I was surprised by lightning in the midst of these luminous sheets, as though they had been rivulets of lead melted in an ardent furnace or metallic masses brought to a white heat, so that, by force of contrast, certain portions of light appeared to cast a shade in the midst of the general ignition, from which all shade seemed banished. No; this was not the calm irradiation of our ordinary lightning. There was unusual life and vigour: this was truly living light!

The Nautilus floated in a bed of glowing light that was dazzling in the darkness. Countless tiny luminous creatures produced the light. They glowed even more brightly as they glided over the vessel’s metal hull. I was surprised by flashes of light amid these glowing sheets. They looked like streams of lead melted in a blazing furnace or masses of metal heated until they glowed white. The contrast was so strong that some areas of light seemed to cast shadows amid the general blaze, where no shadow seemed possible. No, this was not the calm glow of ordinary lightning. It had unusual life and vigor: this was truly living light!

In reality, it was an infinite agglomeration of coloured infusoria, of veritable globules of jelly, provided with a threadlike tentacle, and of which as many as twenty-five thousand have been counted in less than two cubic half-inches of water.

In reality, it was an endless mass of colored infusoria. These were tiny globules of jelly, each with a threadlike tentacle. As many as 25,000 have been counted in less than two cubic half-inches of water.

During several hours the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves, and our admiration increased as we watched the marine monsters disporting themselves like salamanders. I saw there in the midst of this fire that burns not the swift and elegant porpoise (the indefatigable clown of the ocean), and some swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of the hurricane whose formidable sword would now and then strike the glass of the saloon. Then appeared the smaller fish, the balista, the leaping mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others which striped the luminous atmosphere as they swam. This dazzling spectacle was enchanting! Perhaps some atmospheric condition increased the intensity of this phenomenon. Perhaps some storm agitated the surface of the waves. But at this depth of some yards, the Nautilus was unmoved by its fury and reposed peacefully in still water.

For several hours, the Nautilus floated in these brilliant waves. We watched the sea monsters play like salamanders, and our wonder only grew. In the midst of this fire that did not burn, I saw swift, graceful porpoises, the tireless clowns of the ocean. I also saw swordfish ten feet long, those prophetic heralds of hurricanes. Their formidable swords sometimes struck the glass of the saloon. Then came the smaller fish: balista, leaping mackerel, wolf-thorn-tails, and a hundred others. They streaked through the glowing water as they swam. The dazzling spectacle was enchanting! Perhaps some atmospheric condition made the phenomenon more intense. Perhaps a storm was stirring the surface of the waves. But several yards below, the Nautilus was untouched by its fury and rested peacefully in still water.

So we progressed, incessantly charmed by some new marvel. The days passed rapidly away, and I took no account of them. Ned, according to habit, tried to vary the diet on board. Like snails, we were fixed to our shells, and I declare it is easy to lead a snail’s life.

So we traveled on, constantly delighted by new wonders. The days passed quickly, and I lost track of them. As usual, Ned tried to vary the food on board. Like snails, we stayed in our shells. I must say, it is easy to live like a snail.

Thus this life seemed easy and natural, and we thought no longer of the life we led on land; but something happened to recall us to the strangeness of our situation.

This life seemed easy and natural, and we no longer thought about our life on land. But something happened to remind us how strange our situation was.

On the 18th of January, the Nautilus was in 105° long. and 15° S. lat. The weather was threatening, the sea rough and rolling. There was a strong east wind. The barometer, which had been going down for some days, foreboded a coming storm. I went up on to the platform just as the second lieutenant was taking the measure of the horary angles, and waited, according to habit till the daily phrase was said. But on this day it was exchanged for another phrase not less incomprehensible. Almost directly, I saw Captain Nemo appear with a glass, looking towards the horizon.

On January 18, the Nautilus was at 105° longitude and 15° south latitude. The weather looked threatening, and the sea was rough and rolling. A strong wind was blowing from the east. The barometer had been falling for several days, warning of a coming storm. I went up to the platform just as the second lieutenant was measuring the hour angles. As usual, I waited for him to say the daily phrase. But that day, he said a different phrase, which was just as incomprehensible. Almost immediately, Captain Nemo appeared with a spyglass and looked toward the horizon.

For some minutes he was immovable, without taking his eye off the point of observation. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with his lieutenant. The latter seemed to be a victim to some emotion that he tried in vain to repress. Captain Nemo, having more command over himself, was cool. He seemed, too, to be making some objections to which the lieutenant replied by formal assurances. At least I concluded so by the difference of their tones and gestures. For myself, I had looked carefully in the direction indicated without seeing anything. The sky and water were lost in the clear line of the horizon.

For several minutes, he stood motionless, keeping his eye fixed on the spot he was watching. Then he lowered his glass and exchanged a few words with his lieutenant. The lieutenant seemed overcome by some emotion he tried in vain to hide. Captain Nemo had more control over himself and remained calm. He also seemed to raise some objections, which the lieutenant answered with firm assurances. At least, that was what I gathered from their different tones and gestures. I had looked carefully in the direction they were watching, but I saw nothing. Sky and sea met at the clear line of the horizon.

However, Captain Nemo walked from one end of the platform to the other, without looking at me, perhaps without seeing me. His step was firm, but less regular than usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and observed the sea. What could he be looking for on that immense expanse?

However, Captain Nemo walked back and forth across the platform without looking at me, perhaps without even seeing me. His steps were firm, but less steady than usual. At times, he stopped, crossed his arms, and watched the sea. What could he be looking for on that vast expanse?

The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest coast.

The Nautilus was then a few hundred miles from the nearest coast.

The lieutenant had taken up the glass and examined the horizon steadfastly, going and coming, stamping his foot and showing more nervous agitation than his superior officer. Besides, this mystery must necessarily be solved, and before long; for, upon an order from Captain Nemo, the engine, increasing its propelling power, made the screw turn more rapidly.

The lieutenant had picked up the telescope and was scanning the horizon intently. He paced back and forth and stamped his foot, showing more nervous agitation than his superior officer. Besides, the mystery had to be solved soon. At Captain Nemo's command, the engine increased its power, making the propeller turn faster.

Just then the lieutenant drew the Captain’s attention again. The latter stopped walking and directed his glass towards the place indicated. He looked long. I felt very much puzzled, and descended to the drawing-room, and took out an excellent telescope that I generally used. Then, leaning on the cage of the watch-light that jutted out from the front of the platform, set myself to look over all the line of the sky and sea.

Just then, the lieutenant drew the Captain’s attention again. The Captain stopped walking and pointed his telescope where the lieutenant indicated. He looked for a long time. Puzzled, I went down to the drawing room and took out the excellent telescope I usually used. Then I leaned against the watch-light’s protective cage, which projected from the front of the platform. I scanned the entire horizon where sky met sea.

But my eye was no sooner applied to the glass than it was quickly snatched out of my hands.

But as soon as I put my eye to the glass, it was snatched from my hands.

I turned round. Captain Nemo was before me, but I did not know him. His face was transfigured. His eyes flashed sullenly; his teeth were set; his stiff body, clenched fists, and head shrunk between his shoulders, betrayed the violent agitation that pervaded his whole frame. He did not move. My glass, fallen from his hands, had rolled at his feet.

I turned around. Captain Nemo stood before me, but I did not recognize him. His face had changed completely. His eyes flashed with sullen anger, and his teeth were clenched. His rigid body, clenched fists, and head tucked between his shoulders revealed the violent agitation that gripped him. He did not move. My glass had fallen from his hands and rolled to his feet.

Had I unwittingly provoked this fit of anger? Did this incomprehensible person imagine that I had discovered some forbidden secret? No; I was not the object of this hatred, for he was not looking at me; his eye was steadily fixed upon the impenetrable point of the horizon. At last Captain Nemo recovered himself. His agitation subsided. He addressed some words in a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me. “M. Aronnax,” he said, in rather an imperious tone, “I require you to keep one of the conditions that bind you to me.”

Had I unknowingly provoked this burst of anger? Did this baffling man think I had discovered some forbidden secret? No, his hatred was not directed at me, because he was not looking at me. His eyes were fixed on a distant, impenetrable point on the horizon. At last, Captain Nemo regained control of himself. His agitation faded. He spoke a few words to his lieutenant in a foreign language, then turned to me. “M. Aronnax,” he said in a rather commanding tone, “I require you to honor one of the conditions that bind you to me.”

“What is it, Captain?”

“What is it, Captain?”

“You must be confined, with your companions, until I think fit to release you.”

“You and your companions must be confined until I decide to release you.”

“You are the master,” I replied, looking steadily at him. “But may I ask you one question?”

“You are in charge,” I replied, looking steadily at him. “But may I ask you one question?”

“None, sir.”

“None, sir.”

There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and told them the Captain’s determination. You may judge how this communication was received by the Canadian.

There was no resisting this forceful command. It would have been useless. I went down to the cabin shared by Ned Land and Conseil and told them what the Captain had decided. You can imagine how the Canadian took the news.

But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on board the Nautilus.

But there was no time to argue. Four crew members waited at the door and led us to the cell where we had spent our first night aboard the Nautilus.

Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him.

Ned Land would have protested, but the door was shut on him.

“Will master tell me what this means?” asked Conseil.

“Will you tell me what this means, master?” asked Conseil.

I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as I, and equally at a loss how to account for it.

I told my companions what had happened. They were as astonished as I was, and just as unable to explain it.

Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain’s countenance. I was utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by these words from Ned Land:

Meanwhile, I was lost in thought. I could think of nothing but the strange fear on the Captain’s face. I had no idea what could explain it. Then Ned Land interrupted my thoughts with these words:

“Hallo! breakfast is ready.”

“Hello! Breakfast is ready.”

And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the Nautilus.

And sure enough, the table was set. Captain Nemo had evidently given the order when he increased the speed of the Nautilus.

“Will master permit me to make a recommendation?” asked Conseil.

“May I make a suggestion, master?” asked Conseil.

“Yes, my boy.”

“Yes, my boy.”

“Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know what may happen.”

“Well, master should eat breakfast. That would be wise, since we don’t know what may happen.”

“You are right, Conseil.”

“You’re right, Conseil.”

“Unfortunately,” said Ned Land, “they have only given us the ship’s fare.”

“Unfortunately,” said Ned Land, “they have only given us the ship’s food.”

“Friend Ned,” asked Conseil, “what would you have said if the breakfast had been entirely forgotten?”

“Friend Ned,” asked Conseil, “what would you have said if they had completely forgotten breakfast?”

This argument cut short the harpooner’s recriminations.

This argument stopped the harpooner’s complaints.

We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence.

We sat down at the table. We ate the meal in silence.

Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close. A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to conceal Captain Nemo’s projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight rolling motion, ceased. Had the Nautilus quitted the surface of the ocean? Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep. It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eyelids, like leaden caps, fell over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and left me in complete insensibility.

Just then, the glowing globe that lit the cell went out, leaving us in total darkness. Ned Land soon fell asleep. To my surprise, Conseil also fell into a deep sleep. I was wondering what had made him so uncontrollably drowsy when I felt my own mind growing numb. I tried to keep my eyes open, but they kept closing. An alarming suspicion came over me. Clearly, sleeping drugs had been mixed into the food we had just eaten. Locking us up was not enough to keep Captain Nemo’s plans hidden from us. He also needed us to be asleep. Then I heard the panels close. The gentle rocking caused by the waves stopped. Had the Nautilus left the surface of the ocean? Had it returned to the still water below? I tried to stay awake, but it was impossible. My breathing grew faint. A deathly cold seemed to freeze my stiff, half-paralyzed limbs. My eyelids fell over my eyes like weights of lead. I could not lift them. A feverish sleep filled with hallucinations took hold of me. Then the visions disappeared, and I lost consciousness completely.