FIRST PART
CHAPTER 22: The Lightning Bolts of Captain Nemo
(continued)
I was left to myself; I went to bed but slept pretty poorly.
I kept hearing noises from the savages, who were stamping on
the platform and letting out deafening yells. The night passed
in this way, without the crew ever emerging from their usual inertia.
They were no more disturbed by the presence of these man-eaters
than soldiers in an armored fortress are troubled by ants running
over the armor plate.
I got up at six o'clock in the morning. The hatches weren't open.
So the air inside hadn't been renewed; but the air tanks were kept
full for any eventuality and would function appropriately to shoot
a few cubic meters of oxygen into the Nautilus's thin atmosphere.
I worked in my stateroom until noon without seeing Captain Nemo
even for an instant. Nobody on board seemed to be making any
preparations for departure.
I still waited for a while, then I made my way to the main lounge.
Its timepiece marked 2:30. In ten minutes the tide would reach its
maximum elevation, and if Captain Nemo hadn't made a rash promise,
the Nautilus would immediately break free. If not, many months
might pass before it could leave its coral bed.
But some preliminary vibrations could soon be felt over the boat's hull.
I heard its plating grind against the limestone roughness of
that coral base.
At 2:35 Captain Nemo appeared in the lounge.
"We're about to depart," he said.
"Ah!" I put in.
"I've given orders to open the hatches."
"What about the Papuans?"
"What about them?" Captain Nemo replied, with a light shrug
of his shoulders.
"Won't they come inside the Nautilus?"
"How will they manage that?"
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