The Nautilus now traveled west at great speed, and on January 14 we lost sight of land. Two days later, while the ship lay still near the surface with its own light off, the dark water around us suddenly filled with light. We were floating in a vast field of tiny living creatures that shone like melted metal. In this fire that did not burn, dolphins played, and swordfish struck the salon windows with their long swords. So the days passed, one wonder after another. We lived in our shell like snails, and I found a snail’s life an easy one. But then something reminded us how strange our situation was.
On January 18 the sea was rough. I went up onto the platform as the second officer was taking his measurements, and I waited for his usual morning words. But that day he said a different phrase. A moment later Captain Nemo appeared with a telescope and looked toward the horizon.
For some minutes he did not move. Then he spoke with his officer, who seemed deeply upset. I looked where they were looking and saw nothing but sky and water. The captain walked up and down the platform without seeing me, stopping to stare at the sea. At his order the propeller turned faster.
Puzzled, I fetched my own telescope. But the moment I raised it to my eye, it was snatched out of my hands.
Captain Nemo stood in front of me, and I hardly recognized him. His eyes flashed darkly, his teeth were clenched, and his whole body was stiff with anger. Had I discovered some forbidden secret? No; his hatred was not for me. His eyes were fixed on that point on the horizon.
At last he controlled himself.
“Professor Aronnax,” he said in a commanding voice, “I must ask you to keep one of the conditions you accepted. You and your companions must be locked up until I decide to let you out.”
“You are the master here. But may I ask one question?”
“None, sir.”
Four of the crew took Ned, Conseil and me to the cell where we had spent our first night on board. Ned protested, but the door closed on him. A meal was waiting on the table.
“Master should eat,” said Conseil. “It is wise, since we do not know what may happen.”
We ate in silence. Then the light went out. Ned was soon asleep, and, to my surprise, so was Conseil. My own head grew heavy. Something had been put in our food! Locking us up was not enough; Captain Nemo wanted us asleep. I heard the hatches close, and the rolling of the sea stopped: we were diving. My eyelids fell like lead, and I knew nothing more.
I woke in my own room with a clear head. My companions had woken in their cabin and knew no more than I did. The Nautilus moved calmly on the surface, as mysterious as ever.
At about two o’clock, as I was working in the salon, the captain came in. He looked tired, and his face was very sad. He walked up and down, picked up a book and put it down. At last he came over to me.
“Are you a doctor, Professor Aronnax?”
I stared at him in surprise.
“Several of your colleagues have studied medicine.”
“Yes,” I said. “I worked as a doctor in a hospital for several years before I joined the museum.”
“Good. Will you look after one of my men?”
My heart was beating fast. I was sure this had something to do with the events of the day before.
He led me to a cabin near the crew’s quarters. On a bed lay a man of about forty, with a strong, determined face. He was not ill; he was wounded. I took off the bloody bandages around his head. He looked at me with his large eyes but made no sound. The wound was terrible: his skull was broken. His breathing was slow, and his hands were already growing cold. I put the bandages back on and turned to the captain.
“How did this happen?”
“What does it matter? A shock broke one of the levers of the engine, and it struck him. But tell me what you think. You may speak; he does not understand French.”
“He will be dead in two hours.”
“Can nothing save him?”
“Nothing.”
The captain’s hand closed tightly, and tears came into eyes that I had believed could never weep.
That night, between bad dreams, I seemed to hear distant sighs, like a sad hymn for the dead.
The next morning Captain Nemo asked me whether my companions and I would like to take a walk under the sea. He said not a word about the dying man. Ned and Conseil accepted at once, and at half past eight, in our diving suits, we stepped onto the sea floor with the captain and a dozen of his men.
This was the kingdom of coral. In the light of our lamps its branches glowed in a thousand colors. When I reached out to pick its delicate living flowers, the white petals drew back into their red cases, and the flowers turned to stone before my eyes. The captain led us down through dark galleries where our lamps lit up arches hung with points of fire. After two hours we had reached deep water, and around us stood an immense forest of stone trees.
The captain stopped in a wide clearing. His men formed a half circle around him, and I saw that four of them carried a long object on their shoulders. Here and there the ground rose in small, regular mounds; human hands had made them. In the center, on a pile of rocks, stood a cross of coral, its long arms red like blood. At a sign from the captain, one of the men began to dig a hole near the cross.
I understood everything. This clearing was a cemetery, the hole was a grave, and the long object was the body of the man who had died in the night.
The men lowered the body, wrapped in white cloth, into the grave. Captain Nemo, his arms crossed on his chest, knelt to pray with all the dead man’s friends. Then they filled the grave, stretched out their hands in a last goodbye, and we all walked slowly back to the Nautilus.
Later, on the platform, Captain Nemo joined me.
“So the man died in the night?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“And now he rests near his companions in that coral cemetery?”
“Yes, forgotten by everyone else, but not by us. We dig the grave, and the coral closes over our dead forever.” He hid his face in his hands and tried in vain to hold back a sob.
“There, at least, your dead sleep in peace, Captain, safe from sharks.”
“Yes, Professor,” he answered gravely, “from sharks and from men.”