I HAVE NO IDEA how long this slumber lasted; but it must have been a good while, since we were
completely over our exhaustion. I was the first one to wake up. My companions weren't yet stirring and still lay in their corners like inanimate objects.
I had barely gotten up from my passably hard mattress when I felt my mind clear, my brain go on the alert. So I began a careful reexamination of our cell.
Nothing had changed in its interior arrangements. The prison was still a prison and its prisoners still prisoners. But, taking advantage of our slumber, the steward had cleared the table. Consequently, nothing indicated any forthcoming improvement in our situation, and I seriously wondered if we were doomed to spend the rest of our lives in this cage.
This prospect seemed increasingly painful to me because, even though my brain was clear of its obsessions from the night before, I was feeling an odd short-windedness in my chest. It was becoming hard for me to breathe. The heavy air was no longer sufficient for the full play of my lungs. Although our cell was large, we obviously had used up most of the oxygen it contained. In essence, over an hour's time a single human being consumes all the oxygen found in 100 liters of air, at which point that air has become charged with a nearly equal amount of carbon dioxide and is no longer fit for breathing.
So it was now urgent to renew the air in our prison, and no doubt the air in this whole underwater boat as well.
Here a question popped into my head. How did the commander of this aquatic residence go about it? Did he obtain air using chemical methods, releasing the oxygen contained in potassium chlorate by heating it, meanwhile absorbing the carbon dioxide with potassium hydroxide? If so, he would have to keep up some kind of relationship with the shore, to come by the materials needed for such an operation. Did he simply limit himself to storing the air in high-pressure tanks and then dispense it according to his crew's needs? Perhaps. Or, proceeding in a more convenient, more economical, and consequently more probable fashion, was he satisfied with merely returning to breathe at the surface of the water like a cetacean, renewing his oxygen supply every twenty-four hours? In any event, whatever his method was, it seemed prudent to me that he use this method without delay.
In fact, I had already resorted to speeding up my inhalations in order to extract from the cell what little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I was refreshed by a current of clean air, scented with a salty aroma. It had to be a sea breeze, life-giving and charged with iodine! I opened my mouth wide, and my lungs glutted themselves on the fresh particles. At the same time, I felt a swaying, a rolling of moderate magnitude but definitely noticeable. This boat, this sheet-iron monster, had obviously just risen to the surface of the ocean, there to breathe in good whale fashion. So the ship's mode of ventilation was finally established.
When I had absorbed a chestful of this clean air, I looked for the conduit--the "air carrier," if you prefer--that allowed this beneficial influx to reach us, and I soon found it. Above the door opened an air vent that let in a fresh current of oxygen, renewing the thin air in our cell.
I had gotten to this point in my observations when Ned and Conseil woke up almost simultaneously, under the influence of this reviving air purification. They rubbed their eyes, stretched their arms, and sprang to their feet.
"Did master sleep well?" Conseil asked me with his perennial good manners.
"Extremely well, my gallant lad," I replied. "And how about you, Mr. Ned Land?"
"Like a log, professor. But I must be imagining things, because it seems like I'm breathing a sea breeze!"
A seaman couldn't be wrong on this topic, and I told the Canadian what had gone on while he slept.
"Good!" he said. "That explains perfectly all that bellowing we heard, when our so-called narwhale lay in sight of the Abraham Lincoln."
"Perfectly, Mr. Land. It was catching its breath!"
"Only I've no idea what time it is, Professor Aronnax, unless maybe it's dinnertime?"
"Dinnertime, my fine harpooner? I'd say at least breakfast time, because we've certainly woken up to a new day."
"Which indicates," Conseil replied, "that we've spent twenty-four hours in slumber."
"That's my assessment," I replied.
"I won't argue with you," Ned Land answered. "But dinner or breakfast, that steward will be plenty welcome whether he brings the one or the other."
"The one and the other," Conseil said.
"Well put," the Canadian replied. "We deserve two meals, and speaking for myself, I'll do justice to them both."
"All right, Ned, let's wait and see!" I replied. "It's clear that these strangers don't intend to let us die of hunger, otherwise last evening's dinner wouldn't make any sense."
"Unless they're fattening us up!" Ned shot back.
"I object," I replied. "We have not fallen into the hands of cannibals."
"Just because they don't make a habit of it," the Canadian replied in all seriousness, "doesn't mean they don't indulge from time to time. Who knows? Maybe these people have gone without fresh meat for a long while, and in that case three healthy, well-built specimens like the professor, his manservant, and me ---"
"Get rid of those ideas, Mr. Land," I answered the harpooner. "And above all, don't let them lead you to flare up against our hosts, which would only make our situation worse."
"Anyhow," the harpooner said, "I'm as hungry as all Hades, and dinner or breakfast, not one puny meal has arrived!"
"Mr. Land," I answered, "we have to adapt to the schedule on board, and I imagine our stomachs are running ahead of the chief cook's dinner bell."
"Well then, we'll adjust our stomachs to the chef's timetable!" Conseil replied serenely.
"There you go again, Conseil my friend!" the impatient Canadian shot back. "You never allow yourself any displays of bile or attacks of nerves! You're everlastingly calm! You'd say your after-meal grace even if you didn't get any food for your before-meal blessing-- and you'd starve to death rather than complain!"
"What good would it do?" Conseil asked.
"Complaining doesn't have to do good, it just feels good! And if these pirates--I say pirates out of consideration for the professor's feelings, since he doesn't want us to call them cannibals-- if these pirates think they're going to smother me in this cage without hearing what cusswords spice up my outbursts, they've got another think coming! Look here, Professor Aronnax, speak frankly. How long do you figure they'll keep us in this iron box?"
"To tell the truth, friend Land, I know little more about it than you do."
"But in a nutshell, what do you suppose is going on?"
"My supposition is that sheer chance has made us privy to an important secret. Now then, if the crew of this underwater boat have a personal interest in keeping that secret, and if their personal interest is more important than the lives of three men, I believe that our very existence is in jeopardy. If such is not the case, then at the first available opportunity, this monster that has swallowed us will return us to the world inhabited by our own kind."
"Unless they recruit us to serve on the crew," Conseil said, "and keep us here--"
"Till the moment," Ned Land answered, "when some frigate that's faster or smarter than the Abraham Lincoln captures this den of buccaneers, then hangs all of us by the neck from the tip of a mainmast yardarm!"
"Well thought out, Mr. Land," I replied. "But as yet, I don't believe we've been tendered any enlistment offers. Consequently, it's pointless to argue about what tactics we should pursue in such a case. I repeat: let's wait, let's be guided by events, and let's do nothing, since right now there's nothing we can do."
"On the contrary, professor," the harpooner replied, not wanting to give in. "There is something we can do."
"Oh? And what, Mr. Land?"
"Break out of here!"
"Breaking out of a prison on shore is difficult enough, but with an underwater prison, it strikes me as completely unworkable."
"Come now, Ned my friend," Conseil asked, "how would you answer master's objection? I refuse to believe that an American is at the end of his tether."
Visibly baffled, the harpooner said nothing. Under the conditions in which fate had left us, it was absolutely impossible to escape. But a Canadian's wit is half French, and Mr. Ned Land made this clear in his reply.
"So, Professor Aronnax," he went on after thinking for a few moments, "you haven't figured out what people do when they can't escape from their prison?"
"No, my friend."
"Easy. They fix things so they stay there."
"Of course!" Conseil put in. "Since we're deep in the ocean, being inside this boat is vastly preferable to being above it or below it!"
"But we fix things by kicking out all the jailers, guards, and wardens," Ned Land added.
"What's this, Ned?" I asked. "You'd seriously consider taking over this craft?"
"Very seriously," the Canadian replied.
"It's impossible."
"And why is that, sir? Some promising opportunity might come up, and I don't see what could stop us from taking advantage of it. If there are only about twenty men on board this machine, I don't think they can stave off two Frenchmen and a Canadian!"
It seemed wiser to accept the harpooner's proposition than to debate it. Accordingly, I was content to reply:
"Let such circumstances come, Mr. Land, and we'll see. But until then, I beg you to control your impatience. We need to act shrewdly, and your flare-ups won't give rise to any promising opportunities. So swear to me that you'll accept our situation without throwing a tantrum over it."
"I give you my word, professor," Ned Land replied in an unenthusiastic tone. "No vehement phrases will leave my mouth, no vicious gestures will give my feelings away, not even when they don't feed us on time."
"I have your word, Ned," I answered the Canadian.
Then our conversation petered out, and each of us withdrew into his own thoughts. For my part, despite the harpooner's confident talk, I admit that I entertained no illusions. I had no faith in those promising opportunities that Ned Land mentioned. To operate with such efficiency, this underwater boat had to have a sizeable crew, so if it came to a physical contest, we would be facing an overwhelming opponent. Besides, before we could do anything, we had to be free, and that we definitely were not. I didn't see any way out of this sheet-iron, hermetically sealed cell. And if the strange commander of this boat did have a secret to keep-- which seemed rather likely--he would never give us freedom of movement aboard his vessel. Now then, would he resort to violence in order to be rid of us, or would he drop us off one day on some remote coast? There lay the unknown. All these hypotheses seemed extremely plausible to me, and to hope for freedom through use of force, you had to be a harpooner.
I realized, moreover, that Ned Land's brooding was getting him madder by the minute. Little by little, I heard those aforesaid cusswords welling up in the depths of his gullet, and I saw his movements turn threatening again. He stood up, pacing in circles like a wild beast in a cage, striking the walls with his foot and fist. Meanwhile the hours passed, our hunger nagged unmercifully, and this time the steward did not appear. Which amounted to forgetting our castaway status for much too long, if they really had good intentions toward us.
Tortured by the growling of his well-built stomach, Ned Land was getting more and more riled, and despite his word of honor, I was in real dread of an explosion when he stood in the presence of one of the men on board.
For two more hours Ned Land's rage increased. The Canadian shouted and pleaded, but to no avail. The sheet-iron walls were deaf. I didn't hear a single sound inside this dead-seeming boat. The vessel hadn't stirred, because I obviously would have felt its hull vibrating under the influence of the propeller. It had undoubtedly sunk into the watery deep and no longer belonged to the outside world. All this dismal silence was terrifying.
As for our neglect, our isolation in the depths of this cell, I was afraid to guess at how long it might last. Little by little, hopes I had entertained after our interview with the ship's commander were fading away. The gentleness of the man's gaze, the generosity expressed in his facial features, the nobility of his bearing, all vanished from my memory. I saw this mystifying individual anew for what he inevitably must be: cruel and merciless. I viewed him as outside humanity, beyond all feelings of compassion, the implacable foe of his fellow man, toward whom he must have sworn an undying hate!
But even so, was the man going to let us die of starvation, locked up in this cramped prison, exposed to those horrible temptations to which people are driven by extreme hunger? This grim possibility took on a dreadful intensity in my mind, and fired by my imagination, I felt an unreasoning terror run through me. Conseil stayed calm. Ned Land bellowed.
Just then a noise was audible outside. Footsteps rang on the metal tiling. The locks were turned, the door opened, the steward appeared.
Before I could make a single movement to prevent him, the Canadian rushed at the poor man, threw him down, held him by the throat. The steward was choking in the grip of those powerful hands.
Conseil was already trying to loosen the harpooner's hands from his half-suffocated victim, and I had gone to join in the rescue, when I was abruptly nailed to the spot by these words pronounced in French:
"Calm down, Mr. Land! And you, professor, kindly listen to me!"
我们睡了多少时候，我不知道；但一定很久，因为我们的精神完全恢复了。我醒得最早。我的同伴还没有动静，仍睡在那个角落里，像一堆东西一样。
从这张硬邦邦的床上起来，我立刻感到我的头脑清醒了了，我的精神充沛了。于是我又重新观察我们这间牢房.里面的布置丝毫没有变动。牢房还是牢房，囚徒还是囚徒。不过那个侍者乘我们睡熟的时候，把桌上的东西拿走了。没有任何迹象可以表明我们的处境就会发生变化，我冷静地在想，我们是不是注定要永远生活在这个囚笼中。
这种苦难就要临头的思想使我更为难过的是，我脑子虽然不像昨天那样纠缠不清了，可是心口上总觉得特别压抑。我呼吸非常困难，浓浊的空气已经不够我肺部一呼一吸的调换。虽然牢房还算宽大，但很明白，我们已经消耗掉了里面大部分氧气。本来每人每小时要消费一百升空气中所含有的氧，这空气到了含有差不多等量的二氧化碳时，就不能呼吸了。
因此，给我们的牢房换换空气，是很迫切需要的了，无疑的，整个潜水艇也该换换空气了。
这使我想到一个问题。这所浮动住宅的首脑是怎样解决换气问题的？他是用化学方法获得空气的吗？是用氯酸钾加热放出氧气，还是用氢氧化钾吸收二氧化碳气呢？真是这样的话，他必须与陆地保持一定的联系才能取得这些化学原料。或者他只是利用高压力把空气储藏在密封的房间里，然后根据船上人员的需要再把空气放出来吗？或者是这样。或者，他是用更方便，更经济，而且更可能的方法，那就是像鲸鱼类动物一样，浮到水面上来呼吸，二十四小时换一次空气。不管怎样，不管用哪种方法，我觉得为了慎重起见，现在应该赶快使用了。
事实上，我不得不加紧呼吸，把这房间里很少的一点氧气都吸取了，这时候，我忽然吸到一股带海水咸味的新鲜空气，我感到凉爽轻快。这正是使人精神焕发的海风；含有大量碘质的海风！我张大了嘴，让肺部充满了新鲜气体。同时我感到船在摇摆。这铁皮怪分明是浮到海面上来，用鲸鱼呼吸的方式呼吸了。因此我完全肯定了这船调换空气的办法。
我一边自由呼吸着新鲜空气，一边寻找把这种养人的气体送到我们周围的那个东西，或不如说“通气管子”，我不久便找到了。在房门上面，开有一个通气孔，一阵一阵的新鲜空气就从这通气孔进来，填补房中不足的空气。
我正在观察的时候，尼德·兰和康塞尔，在新鲜空气的刺激下，也差不多同时醒来了。他们擦擦眼睛，伸伸胳膊，一下就站起来。
“先生睡得好吗？”康塞尔跟平常一样客客气气地问。
“很不错。康塞尔.“我答，”尼德·兰师傅，您睡得怎样?"“十分甜美，教授。不过，我不知道我是不是弄错了，好像我现在呼吸的是海风！”
一个水手不可能弄错；我告诉加拿大人，当他睡熟的时候所发生的一切。
“对！”他说，“这就完全说明了我们在林肯号上看到这条所谓独角鲸的时候所听到的那种吼声了。”
“不错，足德·兰师傅，这是它的呼吸声!"“不过，阿龙纳斯先生，现在几点钟了，我完全不知道，恐怕至少也是晚餐时候了吧?"“老实的鱼叉手，晚餐时候吗？恐怕至少是午餐时候了，因为从昨天算起，我们现在是在过第二天了。”
“这么说，”康塞尔说，“我们是睡了二十四个小时了。”
“我想是的。”我答。
“我不反对你的意见，”尼德·兰答，“晚餐也好，午餐也好，不管侍者送来什么，都是欢迎的。”
“晚餐和午餐都来。”康塞尔说。
“不错，”加拿大人答，“我们有权利要这两顿饭，在我个人，这两顿饭我都得尝尝。”
“对呀！尼德·兰，再等一会，”我答，“现在很明白，这些人并不想饿死我们，因为，如果要饿死我们，昨天的晚餐便没有意义了。”
“是要把我们填肥！”尼德·兰答。
“我反对您这话，”我答，“我们并不是落在吃人的野蛮人手里！”
“一次送饭不能作为定论，”加拿大人很正经地答，“谁知道这些人是不是很久就没有新鲜的肉吃了，真是这样的话，像您教授，您的仆人和我，三个身体康健的人的肉……”
“尼德·兰师傅，您不要这样想，”我口答鱼叉手，“您更不能从这个角度来反对我们的主人，这样只能使情势更加严重，更加不利。”
“不管怎样，”鱼叉手说，“我肚子饿得要命，晚餐也好，今餐也好，还是不送来！”“尼德·兰师傅，”我答，“我们要遵照船上的规定，我想我们的胃口是走在用餐时间的前面了。”
“是！我们把胃口摆在规定的餐时就好了!“康塞尔安静地答。“康塞尔好朋友，在这件事上我佩服您，”性急的加拿大人答，“您不发愁，也不冒火！总是镇定，若无其事！您可骼把饭后的祷告挪到饭前来念，宁愿饿死，也不肯埋怨！”
“埋怨有什么用呢？”康塞尔问。
“至少总可以出口气呀！能这样就已经不错了。如果这些海盗——我说海盗是尊重他们，并且我也不愿意使教授不痛快，他不让我叫他们吃人的野人———如果这些海盗认为他们把我关在这气闷的笼子里，而可以一点不听到我、发脾气的咒骂，那他们就弄错了！好，阿龙纳斯先生，请您老实说，您想他们会不会把我们长时间关在这铁盒子里?“老实说，尼德·兰好朋友，我跟您一样，知道的不比您多。”
“那么，您就猜一猜，怎么样？”
“我想，这次偶然事件使我们知道了一个重大的秘密。如果潜水艇上的人认为这个秘密对他们有重大利害关系，一定要保守，如果这种利害关系比三个人的生命更要紧，那么，我认为我们的生命就危险了。反过来，如果情形不是这样，那么，一有机会，这个吞食我们的怪物就可以把我们送回我们人类居住的大陆。”
“就怕他们把我们编人他们的船员名册中了，”康塞尔说，“他们就这样把我们留下来了……”
“留下我们，”尼德·兰答，“一直到有一艘比林肯号更快、或更灵巧的战舰，破获了这个匪巢，把巢中的人员和我们送到船上大桅的横木上，让大家自由自在，尽量呼吸一次空气。”
“尼德·兰师傅，您想得对，”我答，“可是，据我们知道，人家还没有向我们提出关于这事的建议，我们现在就来讨论应该采取哪一种办法，是没有用处的。我一再说，我们要等待，既然没事就不必随便找事。”
“正相反！教授，”鱼叉手答，他坚持自己的意见，“一“定要干一下。”
“哎！尼德·兰师傅，干什么呀？”
“我们逃。”
“逃出陆上的监牢都很困难，何况逃出海底的监牢？我看绝对办不到。”
“好吧，尼德·兰，”康塞尔问，“您怎样回敬先生的反对意见呢？我相信一个美洲人是不会弄到束手无策的！”
鱼叉手显然很为难，默不作声。在目前的情况下，想逃出去，是一件绝对不可能的事。但一个加拿大人应当算做半个法国人，从尼德·兰师傅的回答，就可以看出来。
“那么，阿龙纳斯先生，”他思考了一会说，“您想想看，那无法逃出监牢的囚徒该怎么办呢？”
“想不出来，我的朋友。”
“这很简单，就是自己想办法留在里面。”
"对呀！”康塞尔说，“留在里面总比留在上面或下面好些！”
“不过，首先要将看守、警卫和把门的都赶出去.“尼德·兰补充说。“尼德，兰，您说什么？您真想夺取这只船吗？“真想。”加拿大人答。
“这是不可能的."“先生，为什么不可能呢？说不定会碰到个把好机会.那时，我不觉得有什么可以阻止我们不去利用它。如果这只机器船上只有二十个人，我想，他们是不能使两个法国人和一个加拿大人退缩的！”
接受鱼叉手的提议比讨论它好些。所以我只作了下面的回答：“尼德·兰师傅，到那时候我们再想办法。不过，我求您，在机会到来以前，千万不要性急，千万要忍耐，我们只能有计划有策略的行事，发脾气是创造不了有利条件的.所以您的答应我，要暂时忍耐，不能过于激动."“教授先生，我答应您不发脾气。尼德兰带着不大能使人安心得语气回答,“我不说一句粗话，也不露一个结果对我不利的粗暴动作，就是桌上的菜饭不按照心中想望的”时间端出来，我也同样不动火。”
“尼德·�