was floating on the surface. Besides, I could hear a noise upon the platform. Nevertheless, no rolling motion betokened that we were lying at the surface of the water.
I ascended to the deck panel. It was open. But instead of the daylight I expected, all around was dark. Where were we? Had I made a mistake and it was still night? No, not a star glittered, and no night is so absolutely dark.
I did not know what to think of this when a voice close to me said:
“Ah, Professor, is that you?”
“Oh, Captain Nemo,” I cried, “where are we?”
“Under ground!” he replied.
“Under ground, and the Nautilus afloat, too!”
“It always does float,” replied the captain.
“I do not understand,” I said.
“Wait a minute or two and you will. Our lantern will soon be lighted, and if you like light you will then be satisfied.”
I accordingly waited. The darkness was so thick that I could not even see Captain Nemo. Nevertheless, just exactly overhead I fancied I could detect a glimmer of twilight coming through a circular hole.
At this moment the lamp was lighted, and its strong light quite extinguished the gleam overhead.
I looked round me so soon as I could accustom my eyes to the sudden change from the darkness. The Nautilus did not move. It was floating alongside a mountain like an enormous quay. The water in which it floated formed a lake enclosed within a circle of rocky walls about two miles in diameter. The level indicated by the manometer was only that of the exterior sea-level, for a communication, of course, existed between the lake and the ocean. The high
