Chance had brought us in contact with this octopus, and I did not wish to lose the opportunity to study the specimen carefully. I overcame the horror with which its appearance inspired me, and, seizing a pencil, I commenced to make a sketch of it.
“Perhaps this is the same that the Alecto encountered,” said Conseil.
“No,” said the Canadian, “because this one is complete; the other fellow had lost a tail.”
“This is no reason,” I replied; “these animals can reform their arms and tail by redintegration, and in seven years the tail of Bonguer’s cuttle, no doubt, has had time to grow again.”
“Besides,” replied Ned, “if this be not the one, it may be one of those others.”
As he spoke other cuttles appeared at the window. I counted seven of them. They attended on the Nautilus, and I heard the grinding of their beaks on the iron hull. We had enough now at any rate.
I continued my work. The monsters kept their places with such precision that they appeared immovable, and I was able to draw them foreshortened on the glass; besides, we were not going fast.
Suddenly the Nautilus stopped. A shock was felt all through her frame.
“What have we struck?” I exclaimed.
“In any case we are free, for we are floating,” said the Canadian.
The Nautilus was floating, certainly, but it was not moving. The screw was not going. A minute passed, when Captain Nemo and his mate entered.
I had not seen the captain for some time; he seemed preoccupied. Without speaking, perhaps without seeing
