to seize the Nautilus and make your escape. This boat is one of the chefs d’œuvre of modern industry, and I would have been sorry not to have seen it. Many people would accept the situation, if it were only to wander about amongst all these wonderful things. So keep quiet, and try to see what passes around us.”
“See!” replied the harpooner; “there is nothing to see; one will see nothing in this iron prison. We are moving, we are sailing blindly—”
As Ned was speaking the light was suddenly extinguished, and a profound darkness supervened. So rapidly was the light withdrawn that my eyes retained an impression somewhat similar to that which is produced when darkness is suddenly illuminated.
We remained silent and motionless, not knowing what surprise, agreeable or otherwise, awaited us. A rustling noise was heard, as if the panels at the side were being moved.
“It is the end of the world,” said Land.
“Order of Hydromedusæ,” murmured Conseil.
Suddenly daylight appeared at each side of the room across two oblong openings. Liquid masses appeared vividly illuminated. Two crystal plates separated us from the sea. I shuddered at first at the thought that these fragile walls might give way; but the strong copper supports afforded them an almost infinite resistance against pressure.
The sea was distinctly visible in a radius of a mile around the Nautilus. And what a spectacle it was! What pen can describe it? Who could depict the effects of the light across these transparent waves, and
