The next day, I related to Conseil and the Canadian the events of the night, which had excited my curiosity to the highest degree. My companions were not less surprised than myself.
"But where does he take his millions to?" asked Ned Land.
To that there was no possible answer. I returned to the saloon after having breakfast, and set to work. Till five o'clock in the evening, I employed myself in arranging my notes. At that moment (ought I to attribute it to some peculiar idiosyncrasy?) I felt so great a heat that I was obliged to take off my coat of byssus! It was strange, for we were not under low latitudes; and even then, the Nautilus, submerged as it was, ought to experience no change of temperature. I looked at the manometer; it showed a depth of sixty feet, to which atmospheric heat could never attain.
I continued my work, but the temperature rose to such a pitch as to be intolerable.
"Could there be fire on board?" I asked myself.
I was leaving the saloon, when Captain Nemo entered; He approached the thermometer, consulted, and turning to me, said:
"Forty-two degrees."
"I have noticed it, captain," I replied; "and if it gets much hotter we cannot bear it."
"Oh, sir, it will not get hotter if we do not wish it!"
"You can reduce it as you please, then?"
"No; but I can go further from the stove which produces it."
"It is outward then!"
"Certainly; we are floating in a current of boiling water."
"Is it possible!" I exclaimed.
"Look."
The panels opened, and I saw the sea entirely white all round. A sulphurous smoke was curling amid the waves, which boiled like water in a copper. I placed my hand on one of the panes of glass, but the heat was so great that I quickly took it off again.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"Near the island of Santorin, sir," replied the captain,
