The Mysterious Island - Jules Verne (beach read .txt) 📗

“I think, Pencroff,” said the reporter, “that it would be easy to manage a submarine apparatus like the Nautilus, and that we would soon get accustomed to it. No storms, no boarding to fear. At some little distance under the waves the waters are as calm as those of a lake.”

“That’s likely enough,” answered the sailor, “but give me a stiff breeze and a well rigged ship. A ship is made to go on the water and not under it.”

“My friends,” said the engineer, “it is useless, at least as far as the Nautilus is concerned, to discuss this question of submarine vessels. The Nautilus is not ours, and we have no right to dispose of it. It could not, moreover, serve us under any circumstances. Aside from the fact that it cannot get out of this cavern, Captain Nemo wishes it to be engulfed with him after his death. His wish is law, and we will obey it.”

Smith and his companions, after talking for a while longer, descended into the interior of the Nautilus. There they ate some food and returned to the salon.

Captain Nemo had recovered from his prostration, and his eyes had regained their brilliancy. They saw a smile upon his lips.

The colonists approached him. “Sirs,” said the Captain, “you are brave men, and good and honest. You have given yourselves up to the common cause. I have often watched you. I have loved you. I do love you!⁠—Give me your hand, Mr. Smith.”

Smith gave his hand to the Captain, who pressed it affectionately.

“That is well!” he murmured. Then he added:⁠—

“But I have said enough about myself. I wish to speak of yourselves and of Lincoln Island, on which you have found refuge. You want to leave it?”

“To come back again!” said Pencroff eagerly.

“To return?⁠—Oh! yes, Pencroff,” answered the Captain, smiling, “I know how much you love this island. It has been improved by your care, and it is, indeed, yours.”

“Our project, Captain,” added Smith, “would be to make it over to the United States, and to establish a station, which would be well situated here in this part of the Pacific.”

“You think of your country,” replied the Captain. “You work for her prosperity, for her glory. You are right. The Fatherland! It is there we wish to return! It is there we wish to die! And I, I die far from everything that I have loved!”

“Have you no last wish to have executed,” asked the engineer earnestly, “no souvenir to send to those friends you left in the mountains of India?”

“No, Mr. Smith, I have no friends! I am the last of my race⁠—and I die long after those whom I have known. But to return to yourselves. Solitude, isolation are sorrowful things, beyond human endurance. I die from having believed that man could live alone!⁠—You wish to leave Lincoln Island and to return to your country. I know that these wretches have destroyed your boat⁠—”

“We are building a ship,” said Spilett, “a ship large enough to take us to the nearest country; but if sooner or later we leave the island, we will come back again. Too many associations attach us to the place, for us ever to forget it.”

“Here we met Captain Nemo,” said Smith.

“Here only will we find the perfect remembrance of you!” added Herbert.

“It is here that I will rest in an eternal sleep, if⁠—” answered the Captain.

He hesitated, and, instead of finishing his sentence, said:⁠—

“Mr. Smith, I wish to speak with you⁠—with you alone.”

The companions of the engineer retired, and Smith remained for some time alone with Captain Nemo. He soon called back his friends, but said nothing to them of the secrets which the dying prince had confided to him.

Spilett observed the Captain with extreme attention. He was evidently living by the strength of his will, which could not long hold out against his physical weakness.

The day ended without any change manifesting itself. The colonists did not leave the Nautilus. Night came, although unseen in this crypt.

Captain Nemo did not suffer pain, but sunk slowly. His noble face, pale by the approach of death, was perfectly calm. Now and then he spoke, incoherently, of events in his strange existence. All saw that life was retreating. His feet and hands were already cold.

Once or twice, he spoke a word to the colonists who were about him, and he looked upon them with that smile which remained when he was no more.

At last, just after midnight, Captain Nemo made a supreme effort, and crossed his arms upon his breast, as if he wished to die in that attitude.

Towards one o’clock all the life that was left was concentrated in his expression. One last spark burned in that eye which had formerly flashed fire! Then, murmuring these words, “God and Fatherland,” he expired quietly.

Smith, stooping down, closed the eyes of him who had been Prince Dakkar, who was no more even Captain Nemo.

Herbert and Pencroff wept. Ayrton wiped away a furtive tear. Neb was on his knees near the reporter, who was immobile as a statue.

Smith raising his hand above the head of the dead man:⁠—

“May God receive his soul!” he said, and then, turning towards his friends, he added:⁠—

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

Some hours later, the colonists, in fulfillment of their promise, carried out the last wishes of the dead.

They left the Nautilus, taking with them the sole souvenir of their benefactor, the coffer containing a hundred fortunes.

The marvellous salon, still flooded with light, was carefully closed. The cover to the hatchway was bolted down in such a manner that not a drop of water could penetrate to the inner chambers of the Nautilus. Then the colonists entered the boat, which was moored beside the submarine ship.

The boat was taken to the stern. There, at the waterline, they opened the two large cocks which communicated with the reservoirs designed to immerse the apparatus.

The cocks were opened, the reservoirs filled, and the