I turned and discovered the captain.
"That"s the floating signal light of Suez," he went on.
"It won"t be long before we reach the entrance to the tunnel."
"It can"t be very easy to enter it."
"No, sir. Accordingly, I"m in the habit of staying in the pilothouse and directing maneuvers myself. And now if you"ll kindly go below, Professor Aronnax, the Nautilus is about to sink beneath the waves, and it will only return to the surface after we"ve cleared the Arabian Tunnel."
I followed Captain Nemo. The hatch closed, the ballast tanks filled with water, and the submersible sank some ten meters down.
Just as I was about to repair to my stateroom, the captain stopped me.
"Professor," he said to me, "would you like to go with me to the wheelhouse?"
"I was afraid to ask," I replied.
"Come along, then. This way, you"ll learn the full story about this combination underwater and underground navigating."
Captain Nemo led me to the central companionway. In midstair he opened a door, went along the upper gangways, and arrived at the wheelhouse, which, as you know, stands at one end of the platform.
It was a cabin measuring six feet square and closely resembling those occupied by the helmsmen of steamboats on the Mississippi or Hudson rivers. In the center stood an upright wheel geared to rudder cables running to the Nautilus"s stern.
Set in the cabin"s walls were four deadlights, windows of biconvex gla.s.s that enabled the man at the helm to see in every direction.
The cabin was dark; but my eyes soon grew accustomed to its darkness and I saw the pilot, a muscular man whose hands rested on the pegs of the wheel. Outside, the sea was brightly lit by the beacon shining behind the cabin at the other end of the platform.
"Now," Captain Nemo said, "let"s look for our pa.s.sageway."
Electric wires linked the pilothouse with the engine room, and from this cabin the captain could simultaneously signal heading and speed to his Nautilus. He pressed a metal b.u.t.ton and at once the propeller slowed down significantly.
I stared in silence at the high, sheer wall we were skirting just then, the firm base of the sandy mountains on the coast. For an hour we went along it in this fashion, staying only a few meters away.
Captain Nemo never took his eyes off the two concentric circles of the compa.s.s hanging in the cabin. At a mere gesture from him, the helmsman would instantly change the Nautilus"s heading.
Standing by the port deadlight, I spotted magnificent coral substructures, zoophytes, algae, and crustaceans with enormous quivering claws that stretched forth from crevices in the rock.
At 10:15 Captain Nemo himself took the helm. Dark and deep, a wide gallery opened ahead of us. The Nautilus was brazenly swallowed up.
Strange rumblings were audible along our sides. It was the water of the Red Sea, hurled toward the Mediterranean by the tunnel"s slope.
Our engines tried to offer resistance by churning the waves with propeller in reverse, but the Nautilus went with the torrent, as swift as an arrow.
Along the narrow walls of this pa.s.sageway, I saw only brilliant streaks, hard lines, fiery furrows, all scrawled by our speeding electric light.
With my hand I tried to curb the pounding of my heart.
At 10:35 Captain Nemo left the steering wheel and turned to me:
"The Mediterranean," he told me.
In less than twenty minutes, swept along by the torrent, the Nautilus had just cleared the Isthmus of Suez.
CHAPTER 6
The Greek Islands
AT SUNRISE the next morning, February 12, the Nautilus rose to the surface of the waves.
I rushed onto the platform. The hazy silhouette of Pelusium was outlined three miles to the south. A torrent had carried us from one sea to the other. But although that tunnel was easy to descend, going back up must have been impossible.
Near seven o"clock Ned and Conseil joined me. Those two inseparable companions had slept serenely, utterly unaware of the Nautilus"s feat.
"Well, Mr. Naturalist," the Canadian asked in a gently mocking tone, "and how about that Mediterranean?"
"We"re floating on its surface, Ned my friend."
"What!" Conseil put in. "Last night . . . ?"
"Yes, last night, in a matter of minutes, we cleared that insuperable isthmus."
"I don"t believe a word of it," the Canadian replied.
"And you"re in the wrong, Mr. Land," I went on. "That flat coastline curving southward is the coast of Egypt."
"Tell it to the marines, sir," answered the stubborn Canadian.
"But if master says so," Conseil told him, "then so be it."
"What"s more, Ned," I said, "Captain Nemo himself did the honors in his tunnel, and I stood beside him in the pilothouse while he steered the Nautilus through that narrow pa.s.sageway."
"You hear, Ned?" Conseil said.
"And you, Ned, who have such good eyes," I added, "you can spot the jetties of Port Said stretching out to sea."
The Canadian looked carefully.
"Correct," he said. "You"re right, professor, and your captain"s a superman. We"re in the Mediterranean. Fine. So now let"s have a chat about our little doings, if you please, but in such a way that n.o.body overhears."
I could easily see what the Canadian was driving at. In any event, I thought it best to let him have his chat, and we all three went to sit next to the beacon, where we were less exposed to the damp spray from the billows.
"Now, Ned, we"re all ears," I said. "What have you to tell us?"
"What I"ve got to tell you is very simple," the Canadian replied.
"We"re in Europe, and before Captain Nemo"s whims take us deep into the polar seas or back to Oceania, I say we should leave this Nautilus."
I confess that such discussions with the Canadian always baffled me.
I didn"t want to restrict my companions" freedom in any way, and yet I had no desire to leave Captain Nemo. Thanks to him and his submersible, I was finishing my undersea research by the day, and I was rewriting my book on the great ocean depths in the midst of its very element. Would I ever again have such an opportunity to observe the ocean"s wonders? Absolutely not!
So I couldn"t entertain this idea of leaving the Nautilus before completing our course of inquiry.