Chapter 17

Day had returned. No ray of light penetrated into the profundity of the

cavern. It being high-water, the entrance was closed by the sea. But the

artificial light, which escaped in long streams from the skylights of

the “Nautilus” was as vivid as before, and the sheet of water shone

around the floating vessel.

An extreme exhaustion now overcame Captain Nemo, who had fallen back

upon the divan. It was useless to contemplate removing him to Granite

House, for he had expressed his wish to remain in the midst of those

marvels of the “Nautilus” which millions could not have purchased, and

to wait there for that death which was swiftly approaching.

During a long interval of prostration, which rendered him almost

unconscious, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett attentively observed

the condition of the dying man. It was apparent that his strength was

gradually diminishing. That frame, once so robust, was now but the

fragile tenement of a departing soul. All of life was concentrated in

the heart and head.

The engineer and reporter consulted in whispers. Was it possible to

render any aid to the dying man? Might his life, if not saved, be

prolonged for some days? He himself had said that no remedy could

avail, and he awaited with tranquillity that death which had for him no

terrors.

“We can do nothing,” said Gideon Spilett.

“But of what is he dying?” asked Pencroft.

“Life is simply fading out,” replied the reporter.

“Nevertheless,” said the sailor, “if we move him into the open air, and

the light of the sun, he might perhaps recover.”

“No, Pencroft,” answered the engineer, “it is useless to attempt it.

Besides, Captain Nemo would never consent to leave his vessel. He

has lived for a dozen years on board the ‘Nautilus,’ and on board the

‘Nautilus’ he desires to die.”

Without doubt Captain Nemo heard Cyrus Harding’s reply, for he raised

himself slightly, and in a voice more feeble, but always intelligible,--

“You are right, sir,” he said. “I shall die here--it is my wish; and

therefore I have a request to make of you.”

Cyrus Harding and his companions had drawn near the divan, and now

arranged the cushions in such a manner as to better support the dying

man.

They saw his eyes wander over all the marvels of this saloon, lighted

by the electric rays which fell from the arabesques of the luminous

ceiling. He surveyed, one after the other, the pictures hanging from

the splendid tapestries of the partitions, the chef-d’oeuvres of the

Italian, Flemish, French, and Spanish masters; the statues of marble and

bronze on their pedestals; the magnificent organ, leaning against the

after-partition; the aquarium, in which bloomed the most wonderful

productions of the sea--marine plants, zoophytes, chaplets of pearls

of inestimable value; and, finally, his eyes rested on this device,

inscribed over the pediment of the museum--the motto of the “Nautilus”--

“Mobilis in mobile.”

His glance seemed to rest fondly for the last time on these masterpieces

of art and of nature, to which he had limited his horizon during a

sojourn of so many years in the abysses of the seas.

Cyrus Harding respected the captain’s silence, and waited till he should

speak.

After some minutes, during which, doubtless, he passed in review his

whole life, Captain Nemo turned to the colonists and said,

“You consider yourselves, gentlemen, under some obligations to me?”

“Captain, believe us that we would give our lives to prolong yours.”

“Promise, then,” continued Captain Nemo, “to carry out my last wishes,

and I shall be repaid for all I have done for you.”

“We promise,” said Cyrus Harding.

And by this promise he bound both himself and his companions.

“Gentlemen,” resumed the captain, “to-morrow I shall be dead.”

Herbert was about to utter an exclamation, but a sign from the captain

arrested him.

“To-morrow I shall die, and I desire no other tomb than the ‘Nautilus.’

It is my grave! All my friends repose in the depths of the ocean; their

resting-place shall be mine.”

These words were received with profound silence.

“Pay attention to my wishes,” he continued. “The ‘Nautilus’ is

imprisoned in this grotto, the entrance of which is blocked up; but,

although egress is impossible, the vessel may at least sink in the

abyss, and there bury my remains.”

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

“To-morrow, after my death, Mr. Harding,” continued the captain,

“yourself and companions will leave the ‘Nautilus,’ for all the

treasures it contains must perish with me. One token alone will remain

with you of Prince Dakkar, with whose history you are now acquainted.

That coffer yonder contains diamonds of the value of many millions,

most of them mementoes of the time when, husband and father, I thought

happiness possible for me, and a collection of pearls gathered by my

friends and myself in the depths of the ocean. Of this treasure at a

future day, you may make good use. In the hands of such men as yourself

and your comrades, Captain Harding, money will never be a source of

danger. From on high I shall still participate in your enterprises, and

I fear not but that they will prosper.”

After a few moments’ repose, necessitated by his extreme weakness,

Captain Nemo continued,--

“To-morrow you will take the coffer, you will leave the saloon, of which

you will close the door; then you will ascend on to the deck of the

‘Nautilus,’ and you will lower the mainhatch so as entirely to close the

vessel.”

“It shall be done, captain,” answered Cyrus Harding.

“Good. You will then embark in the canoe which brought you hither; but,

before leaving the ‘Nautilus,’ go to the stern and there open two large

stop-cocks which you will find upon the water-line. The water will

penetrate into the reservoirs, and the ‘Nautilus’ will gradually sink

beneath the water to repose at the bottom of the abyss.”

And comprehending a gesture of Cyrus Harding, the captain added,--

“Fear nothing! You will but bury a corpse!”

Neither Cyrus Harding nor his companions ventured to offer any

observation to Captain Nemo. He had expressed his last wishes, and they

had nothing to do but to conform to them.

“I have your promise, gentlemen?” added Captain Nemo.

“You have, captain,” replied the engineer.

The captain thanked the colonists by a sign, and requested them to leave

him for some hours. Gideon Spilett wished to remain near him, in the

event of a crisis coming on, but the dying man refused, saying, “I shall

live until to-morrow, sir.”

All left the saloon, passed through the library and the dining-room, and

arrived forward, in the machine-room where the electrical apparatus was

established, which supplied not only heat and light, but the mechanical

power of the “Nautilus.”

The “Nautilus” was a masterpiece containing masterpieces within itself,

and the engineer was struck with astonishment.

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

the water. There they beheld a thick glass lenticular covering, which

protected a kind of large eye, from which flashed forth light. Behind

this eye was apparently a cabin containing the wheels of the rudder, and

in which was stationed the helmsman, when he navigated the “Nautilus”

over the bed of the ocean, which the electric rays would evidently light

up to a considerable distance.

Cyrus Harding and his companions remained for a time silent, for they

were vividly impressed by what they had just seen and heard, and their

hearts were deeply touched by the thought that he whose arm had so often

aided them, the protector whom they had known but a few hours, was at

the point of death.

Whatever might be the judgment pronounced by posterity upon the events

of this, so to speak, extra-human existence, the character of Prince

Dakkar would ever remain as one of those whose memory time can never

efface.

“What a man!” said Pencroft. “Is it possible that he can have lived at

the bottom of the sea? And it seems to me that perhaps he has not found

peace there any more than elsewhere!”

“The ‘Nautilus,’” observed Ayrton, “might have enabled us to leave

Lincoln Island and reach some inhabited country.”

“Good Heavens!” exclaimed Pencroft, “I for one would never risk myself

in such a craft. To sail on the seas, good, but under the seas, never!”

“I believe, Pencroft,” answered the reporter, “that the navigation of a

submarine vessel such as the ‘Nautilus’ ought to be very easy, and that

we should soon become accustomed to it. There would be no storms, no

lee-shore to fear. At some feet beneath the surface the waters of the

ocean are as calm as those of a lake.”

“That may be,” replied the sailor, “but I prefer a gale of wind on

board a well-found craft. A vessel is built to sail on the sea, and not

beneath it.”

“My friends,” said the engineer, “it is useless, at any rate as regards

the ‘Nautilus,’ to discuss the question of submarine vessels. The

‘Nautilus’ is not ours, and we have not the right to dispose of it.

Moreover, we could in no case avail ourselves of it. Independently of

the fact that it would be impossible to get it out of this cavern, whose

entrance is now closed by the uprising of the basaltic rocks, Captain

Nemo’s wish is that it shall be buried with him. His wish is our law,

and we will fulfil it.”

After a somewhat prolonged conversation, Cyrus Harding and his

companions again descended to the interior of the “Nautilus.” There they

took some refreshment and returned to the saloon.

Captain Nemo had somewhat rallied from the prostration which had

overcome him, and his eyes shone with their wonted fire. A faint smile

even curled his lips.

The colonists drew around him.

“Gentlemen,” said the captain, “you are brave and honest men. You

have devoted yourselves to the common weal. Often have I observed

your conduct. I have esteemed you--I esteem you still! Your hand, Mr.

Harding.”

Cyrus Harding gave his hand to the captain, who clasped it

affectionately.

“It is well!” he murmured.

He resumed,--

“But enough of myself. I have to speak concerning yourselves, and this

Lincoln Island, upon which you have taken refuge. You now desire to

leave it?”

“To return, captain!” answered Pencroft quickly.

“To return, Pencroft?” said the captain, with a smile. “I know, it is

true, your love for this island. You have helped to make it what it now

is, and it seems to you a paradise!”

“Our project, captain,” interposed Cyrus Harding, “is to annex it to the

United States, and to establish for our shipping a port so fortunately

situated in this part of the Pacific.”

“Your thoughts are with your country, gentlemen,” continued the captain;

“your toils are for her prosperity and glory. You are right. One’s

native land!--there should one live! there die! And I die far from all I

loved!”

“You have some last wish to transmit,” said the engineer with emotion,

“some souvenir to send to those friends you have left in the mountains

of India?”

“No, Captain Harding; no friends remain to me! I am the last of my race,

and to all whom I have known I have long been as are the dead.--But

to return to yourselves. Solitude, isolation, are painful things, and

beyond human endurance. I die of having thought it possible to live

alone! You should, therefore, dare all in the attempt to leave Lincoln

Island, and see once more the land of your birth. I am aware that those

wretches have destroyed the vessel you have built.”

“We propose to construct a vessel,” said Gideon Spilett, “sufficiently

large to convey us to the nearest land; but if we should succeed, sooner

or later we shall return to Lincoln Island. We are attached to it by too

many recollections ever to forget it.”

“It is here that we have known Captain Nemo,” said Cyrus Harding.

“It is here only that we can make our home!” added Herbert.

“And here shall I sleep the sleep of eternity, if--” replied the

captain.

He paused for a moment, and, instead of completing the sentence, said

simply,--

“Mr. Harding, I wish to speak with you--alone!”

The engineer’s companions, respecting the wish, retired.

Cyrus Harding remained but a few minutes alone with Captain Nemo, and

soon recalled his companions; but he said nothing to them of the private

matters which the dying man had confided to him.

Gideon Spilett now watched the captain with extreme care. It was evident

that he was no longer sustained by his moral energy, which had lost the

power of reaction against his physical weakness.

The day closed without change. The colonists did not quit the “Nautilus”

for a moment. Night arrived, although it was impossible to distinguish

it from day in the cavern.

Captain Nemo suffered no pain, but he was visibly sinking. His noble

features, paled by the approach of death, were perfectly calm. Inaudible

words escaped at intervals from his lips, bearing upon various incidents

of his checkered career. Life was evidently ebbing slowly and his

extremities were already cold.

Once or twice more he spoke to the colonists who stood around him, and

smiled on them with that last smile which continues after death.

At length, shortly after midnight, Captain Nemo by a supreme effort

succeeded in folding his arms across his breast, as if wishing in that

attitude to compose himself for death.

By one o’clock his glance alone showed signs of life. A dying light

gleamed in those eyes once so brilliant. Then, murmuring the words, “God

and my country!” he quietly expired.

Cyrus Harding, bending low closed the eyes of him who had once been the

Prince Dakkar, and was now not even Captain Nemo.

Herbert and Pencroft sobbed aloud. Tears fell from Ayrton’s eyes. Neb

was on his knees by the reporter’s side, motionless as a statue.

Then Cyrus Harding, extending his hand over the forehead of the dead,

said solemnly, “May his soul be with God!” Turning to his friends, he

added, “Let us pray for him whom we have lost!”

Some hours later the colonists fulfilled the promise made to the captain

by carrying out his dying wishes.

Cyrus Harding and his companions quitted the “Nautilus,” taking with

them the only memento left them by their benefactor, the coffer which

contained wealth amounting to millions.

The marvelous saloon, still flooded with light, had been carefully

closed. The iron door leading on deck was then securely fastened in

such a manner as to prevent even a drop of water from penetrating to the

interior of the “Nautilus.”

The colonists then descended into the canoe, which was moored to the

side of the submarine vessel.

The canoe was now brought around to the stern. There, at the water-line,

were two large stop-cocks communicating with the reservoirs employed in

the submersion of the vessel.

The stop-cocks were opened, the reservoirs filled, and the “Nautilus,”

slowly sinking, disappeared beneath the surface of the lake.

But the colonists were yet able to follow its descent through the waves.

The powerful light it gave forth lighted up the translucent water, while

the cavern became gradually obscure. At length this vast effusion of

electric light faded away, and soon after the “Nautilus,” now the tomb

of Captain Nemo, reposed in its ocean bed.