immediately I saw Captain Nemo approach, and direct his glass towards the horizon.
For some minutes the captain remained motionless, without taking his eyes from the telescope. He then dropped the glass and exchanged a few words with the mate. He appeared to be the prey of an irrepressible emotion; but Captain Nemo, more master of himself, remained cool and collected. He seemed, moreover, to be making certain objections, to which the mate responded by formal assurances. So at least I fancied, judging from their voices and gestures. I had been carefully looking in the direction indicated without discovering anything. The sea and sky met without any intervening object to break the continuity.
Meanwhile, Captain Nemo walked up and down the platform without noticing me, perhaps without being aware of my presence. His step was firm, but less regular than usual. Sometimes he stopped, folded his arms across his chest, and gazed fixedly at the sea. What could he be seeking in that immense expanse? The Nautilus was then some hundreds of miles from the nearest land.
The mate had taken up the glass and swept the horizon, going and coming, stamping his feet, and contrasting generally with his chief in the nervous agitation of his manner.
However, the mystery was about to be cleared up, and before long, for by the captain’s order the screw was set going at a great rate.
At this moment the mate again attracted the captain’s attention. Captain Nemo stopped in his walk and
