At six o’clock the Nautilus passed Tor at some distance; at the end of the bay, the waters appeared red as Captain Nemo had stated. Night fell, and the deep silence was sometimes broken by the cry of the pelican or some night birds, and by the noise of the waves, or the distant beat of the paddles of a steamer.
From eight to nine o’clock the Nautilus remained some yards below the surface. As far as I could judge, we were very close to Suez. Through the windows of the saloon I could perceive the adjacent rocks lighted up by our electric gleam. The straits seemed to be getting narrower and narrower.
At a quarter-past nine we rose to the surface. I went upon the platform. I was very impatient to go through Captain Nemo’s tunnel. I could not keep quiet, and I sought the fresh air.
Very soon I perceived a pale light breaking through the gloom, and half discoloured by the surrounding fog. It appeared to be shining about a mile off.
“A floating lighthouse,” said some one close to me.
I turned round and recognised the captain.
“It is the Suez floating light,” he said; “we shall not be long ere we reach the entrance to the tunnel.”
“The entrance is not very easy, I suppose?”
“No; and therefore I am in the habit of taking the helm myself as we go through. Now, M. Aronnax, if you will be so good as to go below, the Nautilus will do the same, and not return to the surface until she has cleared the Arabian Tunnel.”
I followed the captain; the panels were closed; the reservoirs of water filled, and the vessel descended for a distance of forty feet, or so.
