some others, intended, no doubt, for the peculiar requirements of the Nautilus. That dial-plate I see with the moveable needle. Is it a manometer?”
“It is a manometer, in fact. Placed in the water, of which it indicates the exterior pressure, it gives me at the same time the depth at which I am keeping my boat.”
“And those novel sounding-lines?”
“They are the theometric ‘leads,’ which inform me of the temperature at various depths.”
“And those instruments, with the use of which I am unacquainted?”
“On these points, I must give you some little explanation, if you will listen to me.”
After a short pause, he recommenced.
“There is an agent here, powerful, obedient, rapid in action, natural, which adapts itself to everything on board. It does everything by itself. It gives me light, it warms me, it is the very soul of my mechanical arrangements. This agent is electricity.”
“Electricity!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, monsieur.”
“But,” said I, “you move at a great pace, which is not in accord with the power of electricity. So far as we know, its dynamic power remains very limited, and is not able to produce any great forces.”
“Monsieur,” replied Captain Nemo, “my electricity is not that of the world in general, and that is all that I feel at liberty to tell you.”
“I will not insist upon it, of course, and will content myself by being very much astonished at the result. One question I would ask, to which, of course, you need not
