Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas Part 69

And so it turned out. The Nautilus took full advantage of this countercurrent. It advanced swiftly through this narrow pa.s.sageway.

For an instant I could glimpse the wonderful ruins of the Temple of Hercules, buried undersea, as Pliny and Avia.n.u.s have mentioned, together with the flat island they stand on; and a few minutes later, we were floating on the waves of the Atlantic.

CHAPTER 8

The Bay of Vigo

THE ATLANTIC! A vast expanse of water whose surface area is 25,000,000 square miles, with a length of 9,000 miles and an average width of 2,700. A major sea nearly unknown to the ancients, except perhaps the Carthaginians, those Dutchmen of antiquity who went along the west coasts of Europe and Africa on their commercial junkets!

An ocean whose parallel winding sh.o.r.es form an immense perimeter fed by the world's greatest rivers: the St. Lawrence, Mississippi, Amazon, Plata, Orinoco, Niger, Senegal, Elbe, Loire, and Rhine, which bring it waters from the most civilized countries as well as the most undeveloped areas! A magnificent plain of waves plowed continuously by s.h.i.+ps of every nation, shaded by every flag in the world, and ending in those two dreadful headlands so feared by navigators, Cape Horn and the Cape of Tempests!

The Nautilus broke these waters with the edge of its spur after doing nearly 10,000 leagues in three and a half months, a track longer than a great circle of the earth. Where were we heading now, and what did the future have in store for us?

Emerging from the Strait of Gibraltar, the Nautilus took to the high seas. It returned to the surface of the waves, so our daily strolls on the platform were restored to us.

I climbed onto it instantly, Ned Land and Conseil along with me.

Twelve miles away, Cape St. Vincent was hazily visible, the southwestern tip of the Hispanic peninsula. The wind was blowing a pretty strong gust from the south. The sea was swelling and surging.

Its waves made the Nautilus roll and jerk violently.

It was nearly impossible to stand up on the platform, which was continuously buffeted by this enormously heavy sea.

After inhaling a few breaths of air, we went below once more.

I repaired to my stateroom. Conseil returned to his cabin; but the Canadian, looking rather worried, followed me. Our quick trip through the Mediterranean hadn't allowed him to put his plans into execution, and he could barely conceal his disappointment.

After the door to my stateroom was closed, he sat and stared at me silently.

"Ned my friend," I told him, "I know how you feel, but you mustn't blame yourself. Given the way the Nautilus was navigating, it would have been sheer insanity to think of escaping!"

Ned Land didn't reply. His pursed lips and frowning brow indicated that he was in the grip of his monomania.

"Look here," I went on, "as yet there's no cause for despair.

We're going up the coast of Portugal. France and England aren't far off, and there we'll easily find refuge. Oh, I grant you, if the Nautilus had emerged from the Strait of Gibraltar and made for that cape in the south, if it were taking us toward those regions that have no continents, then I'd share your alarm.

But we now know that Captain Nemo doesn't avoid the seas of civilization, and in a few days I think we can safely take action."

Ned Land stared at me still more intently and finally unpursed his lips:

"We'll do it this evening," he said.

I straightened suddenly. I admit that I was less than ready for this announcement. I wanted to reply to the Canadian, but words failed me.

"We agreed to wait for the right circ.u.mstances," Ned Land went on.

"Now we've got those circ.u.mstances. This evening we'll be just a few miles off the coast of Spain. It'll be cloudy tonight.

The wind's blowing toward sh.o.r.e. You gave me your promise, Professor Aronnax, and I'm counting on you."

Since I didn't say anything, the Canadian stood up and approached me:

"We'll do it this evening at nine o'clock," he said.

"I've alerted Conseil. By that time Captain Nemo will be locked in his room and probably in bed. Neither the mechanics or the crewmen will be able to see us. Conseil and I will go to the central companionway.

As for you, Professor Aronnax, you'll stay in the library two steps away and wait for my signal. The oars, mast, and sail are in the skiff. I've even managed to stow some provisions inside.

I've gotten hold of a monkey wrench to unscrew the nuts bolting the skiff to the Nautilus's hull. So everything's ready.

I'll see you this evening."

"The sea is rough," I said.

"Admitted," the Canadian replied, "but we've got to risk it.

Freedom is worth paying for. Besides, the longboat's solidly built, and a few miles with the wind behind us is no big deal.

By tomorrow, who knows if this s.h.i.+p won't be 100 leagues out to sea?

If circ.u.mstances are in our favor, between ten and eleven this evening we'll be landing on some piece of solid ground, or we'll be dead.

So we're in G.o.d's hands, and I'll see you this evening!"

This said, the Canadian withdrew, leaving me close to dumbfounded.

I had imagined that if it came to this, I would have time to think about it, to talk it over. My stubborn companion hadn't granted me this courtesy. But after all, what would I have said to him?

Ned Land was right a hundred times over. These were near-ideal circ.u.mstances, and he was taking full advantage of them.

In my selfish personal interests, could I go back on my word and be responsible for ruining the future lives of my companions?

Tomorrow, might not Captain Nemo take us far away from any sh.o.r.e?

Just then a fairly loud hissing told me that the ballast tanks were filling, and the Nautilus sank beneath the waves of the Atlantic.

I stayed in my stateroom. I wanted to avoid the captain, to hide from his eyes the agitation overwhelming me. What an agonizing day I spent, torn between my desire to regain my free will and my regret at abandoning this marvelous Nautilus, leaving my underwater research incomplete!

How could I relinquish this ocean--"my own Atlantic," as I liked to call it--without observing its lower strata, without wresting from it the kinds of secrets that had been revealed to me by the seas of the East Indies and the Pacific! I was putting down my novel half read, I was waking up as my dream neared its climax!

How painfully the hours pa.s.sed, as I sometimes envisioned myself safe on sh.o.r.e with my companions, or, despite my better judgment, as I sometimes wished that some unforeseen circ.u.mstances would prevent Ned Land from carrying out his plans.

Twice I went to the lounge. I wanted to consult the compa.s.s.

I wanted to see if the Nautilus's heading was actually taking us closer to the coast or spiriting us farther away. But no.

The Nautilus was still in Portuguese waters. Heading north, it was cruising along the ocean's beaches.

So I had to resign myself to my fate and get ready to escape.

My baggage wasn't heavy. My notes, nothing more.

As for Captain Nemo, I wondered what he would make of our escaping, what concern or perhaps what distress it might cause him, and what he would do in the twofold event of our attempt either failing or being found out! Certainly I had no complaints to register with him, on the contrary. Never was hospitality more wholehearted than his.

Yet in leaving him I couldn't be accused of ingrat.i.tude.

No solemn promises bound us to him. In order to keep us captive, he had counted only on the force of circ.u.mstances and not on our word of honor. But his avowed intention to imprison us forever on his s.h.i.+p justified our every effort.

I hadn't seen the captain since our visit to the island of Santorini.

Would fate bring me into his presence before our departure?

I both desired and dreaded it. I listened for footsteps in the stateroom adjoining mine. Not a sound reached my ear.

His stateroom had to be deserted.

Then I began to wonder if this eccentric individual was even on board.

Since that night when the skiff had left the Nautilus on some mysterious mission, my ideas about him had subtly changed.

In spite of everything, I thought that Captain Nemo must have kept up some type of relations.h.i.+p with the sh.o.r.e.

Did he himself never leave the Nautilus? Whole weeks had often gone by without my encountering him. What was he doing all the while?

During all those times I'd thought he was convalescing in the grip of some misanthropic fit, was he instead far away from the s.h.i.+p, involved in some secret activity whose nature still eluded me?