Part 47

Never had British power in India run such a danger, and if, as they had hoped, the sepoys had found help from without, it might have been all over in Asia for the influence and domination of the United Kingdom.

The name of Prince Dakkar was illustrious then. The hero who bore it did not hide, but fought openly. His head was put at a price, and, if no traitor was found to deliver it, his father, his mother, his wife, his children paid for him before he could even know the dangers they ran because of him...

Right, this time again, had fallen before force. But civilization never recedes, and it seems to borrow all its rights from necessity. The sepoys were defeated, and the country of the ancient rajahs fell back under the stricter domination of England.

Prince Dakkar, who had not been able to die, returned to the mountains of Bundelkund. There, alone henceforth, seized with an immense disgust for all that bore the name of man, having hatred and horror of the civilized world, wishing to flee it forever, he realized the remnants of his fortune, gathered some twenty of his most faithful companions, and, one day, all disappeared.

Where then had Prince Dakkar gone to seek that independence which the inhabited earth refused him?

Beneath the waters, in the depths of the seas, where no one could follow him.

The man of war was replaced by the man of science. A deserted island of the Pacific served him to establish his shipyards, and, there, a submarine boat was built according to his plans. Electricity, whose immeasurable mechanical force he had known how to utilize by means which will one day be known, and which he drew from inexhaustible sources, was employed for all the needs of his floating apparatus, as motive force, lighting force, heating force. The sea, with its infinite treasures, its myriads of fish, its harvests of wrack and sargasso, its enormous mammals, and not only all that nature maintained therein, but also all that men had lost there, amply sufficed for the needs of the prince and his crew, — and this was the fulfillment of his keenest desire, since he wished no longer to have any communication with the land. He named his submarine apparatus the Nautilus, he called himself Captain Nemo, and he disappeared beneath the seas.

For many years, the captain visited all the oceans, from pole to pole. Pariah of the inhabited universe, he gathered in those unknown worlds admirable treasures. The millions lost in the bay of Vigo in 1702 by the Spanish galleons furnished him an inexhaustible mine of riches, of which he always disposed, anonymously, in favor of peoples fighting for the independence of their country. At last, he had had, for a long time, no communication with his fellow men, when, during the night of November 6, 1866, three men were cast upon his deck. They were a French professor, his servant, and a Canadian fisherman. These three men had been precipitated into the sea, in a shock which occurred between the Nautilus and the frigate of the United States the Abraham-Lincoln, which was giving it chase.

Captain Nemo learned from this professor that the Nautilus, sometimes taken for a gigantic mammal of the cetacean family, sometimes for a submarine apparatus containing a crew of pirates, was pursued upon all the seas.

Captain Nemo might have returned these three men to the ocean, whom chance thus cast across his mysterious existence. He did not do so, he kept them prisoners, and, for seven months, they could contemplate all the wonders of a voyage which pursued itself for twenty thousand leagues under the seas. One day, June 22, 1867, these three men, who knew nothing of Captain Nemo's past, managed to escape, after seizing the Nautilus's shallop. But as at that moment the Nautilus was being drawn toward the coasts of Norway, into the whirlpools of the Maelstrom, the captain must have believed that the fugitives, drowned in those frightful eddies, had met death at the bottom of the gulf. He was therefore ignorant that the Frenchman and his two companions had been miraculously cast back to the shore, that fishermen of the Loffoden islands had taken them in, and that the professor, on his return to France, had published the work in which seven months of this strange and adventurous navigation of the Nautilus were recounted and delivered to public curiosity.

For a long time still, the captain continued to live thus, roaming the seas. But, little by little, his companions died and went to rest in their coral cemetery, at the bottom of the Pacific. Emptiness made itself in the Nautilus, and at last Captain Nemo remained alone of all those who had taken refuge with him in the depths of the ocean.

Captain Nemo was then sixty years old. When he was alone, he managed to bring his Nautilus back to one of the submarine ports which sometimes served him as stopping places.

One of these ports was hollowed under Lincoln Island, and it was that which at this moment gave asylum to the Nautilus. For six years, the captain had been there, no longer navigating, awaiting death, that is to say the instant when he should be reunited with his companions, when chance made him assist at the fall of the balloon which bore the prisoners of the South. Clad in his diving suit, he was walking beneath the waters, a few cables' lengths from the shore of the island, when the engineer was precipitated into the sea. A good impulse carried the captain... and he saved Cyrus Smith.

At first, these five shipwrecked men, he wished to flee them, but his refuge port was closed, and, as a result of a raising of the basalt which had produced itself under the influence of volcanic actions, he could no longer cross the entrance of the crypt. Where there was still enough water for a light skiff to pass the bar, there was no longer enough for the Nautilus, whose draft of water was relatively considerable.

Captain Nemo therefore remained, then, he observed these men cast without resource upon a desert island, but he did not wish to be seen. Little by little, when he saw them honest, energetic, bound to one another by a fraternal friendship, he took interest in their efforts. As despite himself, he penetrated all the secrets of their existence. By means of the diving suit, it was easy for him to arrive at the bottom of the inner well of Granite-House, and, rising by the projections of the rock to its upper orifice, he heard the colonists recount the past, study the present and the future. He learned from them the immense effort of America against America itself, to abolish slavery. Yes! These men were worthy to reconcile Captain Nemo with that humanity which they represented so honestly in the island!

Captain Nemo had saved Cyrus Smith. It was he also who brought back the dog to the chimneys, who threw Top out of the waters of the lake, who caused to strand at the point of the wreck that case containing so many useful objects for the colonists, who sent the shallop back into the current of the Mercy, who threw the rope from the top of Granite-House, at the time of the attack of the apes, who made known the presence of Ayrton at Tabor Island, by means of the document enclosed in the bottle, who blew up the brig by the shock of a torpedo disposed at the bottom of the channel, who saved Harbert from certain death by bringing the sulfate of quinine, he, finally, who struck the convicts with those electric balls of which he had the secret and which he employed in his submarine hunts. Thus were explained so many incidents which must have appeared supernatural, and which, all, attested the generosity and the power of the captain.

However, this great misanthrope thirsted for good.

There remained useful advice for him to give his protégés, and, on the other hand, feeling his heart returned to himself by the approaches of death, he summoned, as we know, the colonists of Granite-House, by means of a wire by which he connected the corral to the Nautilus, which was furnished with an alphabetic apparatus... Perhaps he would not have done it, if he had known that Cyrus Smith knew his history well enough to salute him by that name of Nemo.

The captain had finished the account of his life.

Cyrus Smith then took the word; he recalled all the incidents which had exercised so salutary an influence on the colony, and, in the name of his companions as in his own, he thanked the generous being to whom they owed so much.

But Captain Nemo was not thinking of claiming the price of the services he had rendered. A last thought agitated his mind, and before clasping the hand which the engineer presented to him:

"Now, sir," said he, "now that you know my life, judge it!"

In speaking thus, the captain was evidently alluding to a grave incident of which the three strangers cast upon his deck had been witnesses, — an incident which the French professor had necessarily recounted in his work and whose reverberation must have been terrible. Indeed, a few days before the flight of the professor and his two companions, the Nautilus, pursued by a frigate in the north of the Atlantic, had precipitated itself like a ram upon that frigate and sunk it without mercy.

Cyrus Smith understood the allusion and remained without answering.

"It was an English frigate, sir," cried the captain, become for an instant the prince Dakkar again, "an English frigate, do you hear well! It was attacking me! I was shut in a narrow and shallow bay!... I had to pass, and... I passed!"

Then, in a calmer voice:

"I was in justice and in right," added he. "I have done everywhere the good I could, and also the evil I had to. All justice is not in pardon!"

Some moments of silence followed this reply, and Captain Nemo pronounced anew this phrase:

"What think you of me, gentlemen?"

Cyrus Smith extended his hand to the captain, and, at his request, he answered in a grave voice:

"Captain, your wrong is to have believed that one could resuscitate the past, and you have struggled against necessary progress. It was one of those errors which some admire, which others blame, of which God alone is judge and which human reason must absolve.

"He who is mistaken in an intention which he believes good, one may combat him, one does not cease to esteem him. Your error is of those which do not exclude admiration, and your name has nothing to fear from the judgments of history. It loves heroic follies, while condemning the results they entail."

The breast of Captain Nemo heaved, and his hand stretched toward the sky.

"Have I been wrong, have I been right?" he murmured.

Cyrus Smith resumed:

"All great actions ascend to God, for they come from him! Captain Nemo, the honest folks who are here, those whom you have succored, will mourn you forever!"

Harbert had drawn near the captain. He bent his knees, he took his hand and kissed it. A tear glided from the eyes of the dying man.

"My child," said he, "be blessed!..."

CHAPTER XVII

Day had come. No luminous ray penetrated into this deep crypt. The sea, high at this moment, obstructed its opening. But the artificial light which escaped in long beams through the walls of the Nautilus had not weakened, and the sheet of water still shone around the floating apparatus. An extreme fatigue then overwhelmed Captain Nemo, who had fallen back on the divan. One could not think of transporting him to Granite-House, for he had manifested his will to remain amid these wonders of the Nautilus, which millions would not have paid, and there to await a death, which could not long delay in coming.

During a rather long prostration which held him almost unconscious, Cyrus Smith and Gideon Spilett observed with attention the state of the sick man. It was visible that the captain was extinguishing little by little. Strength was going to fail this body formerly so robust, now frail envelope of a soul which was about to escape. All life was concentrated in the heart and the head.

The engineer and the reporter had consulted in a low voice. Was there some care to give this dying man? Could one, if not save him, at least prolong his life for some days? He himself had said there was no remedy, and he awaited tranquilly the death, which he did not fear.

"We can do nothing," said Gideon Spilett.

"But of what is he dying?" asked Pencroff.

"He is extinguishing," replied the reporter.

"However," resumed the sailor, "if we transported him into the open air, into the full sun, perhaps he would revive?"

"No, Pencroff," answered the engineer, "nothing is to be attempted! Besides, Captain Nemo would not consent to leave his vessel. He has lived on the Nautilus for thirty years, it is on the Nautilus that he wishes to die."

Doubtless Captain Nemo heard Cyrus Smith's reply, for he raised himself a little, and in a weaker voice, but always intelligible:

"You are right, sir," said he. "I must and I will die here. Also I have a request to make of you."

Cyrus Smith and his companions had drawn near the divan, and they so arranged the cushions that the dying man might be better supported.

One could then see his gaze rest upon all the wonders of this saloon, lighted by the electric rays which a luminous ceiling filtered through its arabesques. He looked, one after the other, at the pictures hung upon the splendid tapestries of the walls, those masterpieces of Italian, Flemish, French and Spanish masters, the reductions in marble and bronze which rose upon their pedestals, the magnificent organ backed against the after bulkhead, then the show-cases disposed around a central basin, in which were displayed the most admirable products of the sea, marine plants, zoophytes, strings of pearls of inappreciable value, and, finally, his eyes rested upon that motto inscribed on the fronton of this museum, the motto of the Nautilus: mobilis in mobile.

It seemed that he wished one last time to caress with his gaze these masterpieces of art and of nature, to which he had limited his horizon during a stay of so many years in the abyss of the seas!

Cyrus Smith had respected the silence which Captain Nemo kept. He waited until the dying man resumed speech.

After some minutes, during which he saw pass before him, no doubt, his whole life, Captain Nemo turned toward the colonists and said to them:

"You believe, gentlemen, me to owe some gratitude?...

"Captain, we would give our lives to prolong yours!"

"Well," resumed Captain Nemo, "well!... Promise me to execute my last wishes, and I shall be repaid for all I have done for you."

"We promise you," answered Cyrus Smith.

And, by this promise, he engaged his companions and himself.

"Gentlemen," resumed the captain, "tomorrow, I shall be dead."

He stopped with a sign Harbert, who wished to protest.

"Tomorrow, I shall be dead, and I desire to have no other tomb than the Nautilus. It is my coffin, mine! All my friends rest at the bottom of the seas, I wish to rest there also."

A profound silence welcomed these words of Captain Nemo.

"Listen well to me, gentlemen," he resumed. "The Nautilus is imprisoned in this grotto, whose entrance has raised itself. But, if it cannot leave its prison, it can at least engulf itself in the abyss which it covers and there keep my mortal remains."

The colonists listened religiously to the words of the dying man.

"Tomorrow, after my death, Mr. Smith," resumed the captain, "you and your companions, you will leave the Nautilus, for all the riches it contains must disappear with me. A single memory will remain to you of Prince Dakkar, whose history you now know. That chest... there... encloses for several millions of diamonds, most, souvenirs of the epoch when, father and husband, I almost believed in happiness, and a collection of pearls gathered by my friends and myself at the bottom of the seas. With this treasure, you can do, at a given day, good things. In hands such as yours and those of your companions, Mr. Smith, money could not be a peril. I shall therefore, from up there, be associated with your works, and I do not fear them!"

After some instants of rest, necessitated by his extreme weakness, Captain Nemo resumed in these terms:

"Tomorrow, you will take this chest, you will leave this saloon, whose door you will close; then, you will remount to the platform of the Nautilus, and you will lower the hatch, which you will fix by means of its bolts.

"We will do it, captain," answered Cyrus Smith.

"Well. You will then embark upon the shallop which brought you. But, before abandoning the Nautilus, go to the stern, and there, open two large cocks which are found on the waterline. The water will penetrate into the reservoirs, and the Nautilus will sink little by little beneath the waters to go to rest at the bottom of the abyss."

And, at a gesture of Cyrus Smith, the captain added:

"Fear nothing! You will only entomb a dead man!"

Neither Cyrus Smith, nor any of his companions would have believed they should make an observation to Captain Nemo. These were his last wishes which he transmitted to them, and they had only to conform to them.

"I have your promise, gentlemen?" added Captain Nemo.

"You have it, captain," replied the engineer.

The captain made a sign of thanks and prayed the colonists to leave him alone for some hours.

Gideon Spilett insisted on remaining near him, in case a crisis should occur, but the dying man refused, saying:

"I shall live until tomorrow, sir!"

All left the saloon, crossed the library, the dining-room, and arrived forward, in the engine-room, where the electric apparatus were established, which, at the same time as heat and light, furnished the mechanical force to the Nautilus.

The Nautilus was a masterpiece which contained masterpieces, and the engineer was amazed.

The colonists mounted to the platform, which rose seven or eight feet above the water.

There, they stretched near a thick lenticular glass which stopped up a sort of great eye whence sprang a sheaf of light. Behind this eye was hollowed a cabin which contained the wheels of the helm and in which the helmsman stayed, when he directed the Nautilus through the liquid layers, which the electric rays must light at a considerable distance.

Cyrus Smith and his companions remained at first silent, for they were vividly impressed by what they had just seen, by what they had just heard, and their heart tightened, when they thought that he whose arm had so often succored them, that this protector whom they would have known but a few hours, was on the eve of dying! Whatever judgment posterity might pronounce upon the acts of this extra-human existence, Prince Dakkar would remain always one of those strange faces, whose memory cannot be effaced.

"There is a man!" said Pencroff. "Is it credible that he has thus lived at the bottom of the ocean! And when I think that he has perhaps not found there more tranquility than elsewhere!

"The Nautilus," then observed Ayrton, "might perhaps have served us to leave Lincoln Island and to gain some inhabited land."

"A thousand devils!" cried Pencroff, "it is not I who would ever hazard directing such a boat. To run upon the seas, well! But under the seas, no!

"I believe," replied the reporter, "that the maneuver of a submarine apparatus such as this Nautilus must be very easy, Pencroff, and that we should soon have accustomed ourselves to it. No tempests, no collisions to fear. At some feet below its surface, the waters of the sea are as calm as those of a lake.

"Possible!" retorted the sailor, "but I prefer a good gust of wind aboard a well-rigged vessel. A boat is made to go upon the water and not beneath it."

"My friends," replied the engineer, "it is useless, at least as regards the Nautilus, to discuss this question of submarine ships. The Nautilus is not ours, and we have not the right to dispose of it. It could not, besides, serve us in any case. Besides that it can no longer leave this cavern, whose entrance is now closed by a raising of the basaltic rocks, Captain Nemo wishes that it engulf itself with him after his death. His will is formal, and we shall accomplish it."

Cyrus Smith and his companions, after a conversation which prolonged itself some time still, went down again to the interior of the Nautilus. There, they took some nourishment and re-entered the saloon.

Captain Nemo had come out of that prostration which had overwhelmed him, and his eyes had recovered their brilliance. One saw like a smile trace itself upon his lips.

The colonists approached him.

"Gentlemen," said the captain to them, "you are courageous men, honest and good. You have all devoted yourselves without reserve to the common work. I have often observed you. I have loved you, I love you!... your hand, Mr. Smith!"

Cyrus Smith extended his hand to the captain, who pressed it affectionately.

"That is good!" he murmured.

Then, resuming:

"But that is enough speaking of me! I have to speak to you of yourselves and of Lincoln Island, upon which you have found refuge... You count on abandoning it?"

"To return to it, captain!" answered Pencroff vivaciously.

"Return to it?... Indeed, Pencroff," answered the captain smiling, "I know how much you love this island. It has been modified by your care, and it is well yours!"

"Our project, captain," said then Cyrus Smith, "would be to endow the United States with it and to found there for our marine a stopping-place which would be happily situated in this portion of the Pacific."

"You think of your country, gentlemen," replied the captain. "You work for its prosperity, for its glory. You are right. The fatherland!... it is there that one must return! It is there that one must die!... and I, I die far from all that I have loved!"

"Would you have some last wish to transmit?" said vivaciously the engineer, "some souvenir to give to the friends you may have left in those mountains of India?"

"No, Mr. Smith. I have no more friends! I am the last of my race... and I am dead since long to all those I have known... but let us return to you. Solitude, isolation are sad things, above human forces... I die from having believed that one could live alone!... You must therefore attempt all to leave Lincoln Island and to see again the soil where you were born. I know that these miserable men destroyed the boat you had made..."

"We are constructing a vessel," said Gideon Spilett, "a vessel large enough to transport us to the nearest lands; but if we succeed in leaving it sooner or later, we shall return to Lincoln Island. Too many memories attach us there for us to ever forget it!"

"It is here that we shall have known Captain Nemo," said Cyrus Smith.

"It is only here that we shall find again your whole memory!" added Harbert.

"And it is here that I shall rest in eternal sleep, if..." replied the captain.

He hesitated, and, instead of finishing his phrase, he contented himself with saying:

"Mr. Smith, I would like to speak to you... To you alone!"

The companions of the engineer, respecting this desire of the dying man, withdrew.

Cyrus Smith remained only some minutes enclosed with Captain Nemo, and soon he recalled his friends, but he told them nothing of the secret things which the dying man had wished to confide to him.

Gideon Spilett then observed the sick man with an extreme attention. It was evident that the captain was no longer sustained but by a moral energy, which could soon no longer react against his physical weakening.

The day ended without any change manifesting itself. The colonists did not leave the Nautilus an instant. Night had come, although it was impossible to perceive it in this crypt.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”