The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (best ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📖

the priceless treasures of the Nautilus, awaiting that death which could not be long in coming.

Smith and Spilett observed with great attention his prostration. They saw that he was slowly sinking. His strength, formerly so great, was almost gone, and his body was but a frail envelope for the spirit about escaping. All life was concentrated at the heart and brain.

The engineer and the reporter consulted together in low tones. Could they do anything for the dying man? Could they, if not save him, at least prolong his life for a few days? He himself had said that there was no remedy, and he awaited death calmly and without fear.

“We can do nothing,” said Spilett.

“What is he dying of?” asked Pencroff.

“Of exhaustion,” answered the reporter.

“Supposing we take him out into the open air, into the sunlight, perhaps he would revive?”

“No, Pencroff,” responded the engineer, “there is nothing to do. Moreover, Captain Nemo would not be willing to leave here. He has lived on the Nautilus for thirty years, and on the Nautilus he wishes to die.”

Doubtless Captain Nemo heard Smith’s words, for, raising himself up a little, and speaking in a feeble but intelligible voice, he said:—

“You are right. I wish to die here. And I have a request to make.”

Smith and his companions had gathered round the divan, and they arranged the cushions so that the dying man was more comfortably placed.

They saw that his gaze was fixed upon the marvels of the saloon, lit up by the rays of electric light sifting through the arabesques of the luminous ceiling. He looked upon the pictures, those chefs d’œuvre of Italian, Flemish, French, and Spanish masters, which hung on the tapestried walls, upon the marbles and bronzes, upon the magnificent organ at the opposite end of the saloon, upon the glasses arranged around a central vase in which were disposed the rarest products of the seas, marine plants, zoophytes, chaplets of pearls of an inappreciable value, and at length his attention was fixed upon this device, the device of the Nautilus inscribed upon the front of this museum:—

MOBILIS IN MOBILI.

It seemed as if he wished to caress with his regard, one last time, those chefs d’oeuvre of art and nature which had been ever visible to him in the years of his sojourn in the depths of the sea!

Smith respected Captain Nemo’s silence. He waited for him to speak.

After some moments, during which passed before him, doubtless, his whole life, Cap-Nemo turned to the colonists and said:—

“You wish to do me a favor?”

“Captain, we would give our lives to prolong yours!”

“Well, then, promise me that you will execute my last wishes, and I will be repaid for all that I have done for you.”

“We promise,” answered Smith, speaking for his companions and himself.

“To-morrow,” said the Captain, “to-morrow I will be dead.”

He made a sign to Herbert, who was about to protest.

“To-morrow I will be dead, and I wish for no other tomb than the Nautilus. It is my coffin! All my friends rest at the bottom of the sea, and I wish to rest there also.”

A profound silence followed the words of Captain Nemo.

“Attend to what I say,” he continued. “The Nautilus is imprisoned in this grotto. But if she cannot leave this prison, she can at least sink herself in the abyss, which will cover her and guard my mortal remains.”

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

“To-morrow, after I am dead, Mr. Smith,” continued the Captain, “you and your companions will leave the Nautilus, all of whose riches are to disappear with me. One single remembrance of Prince Dakkar, whose history you now know, will remain to you. That coffer, there, encloses diamonds worth many millions, most of them souvenirs of the time when, a husband and father, I almost believed in happiness, and a collection of pearls gathered by my friends and myself from the bottom of the sea. With this treasure, you will be able, some time, to accomplish good. In your hands and those of your companions, Mr. Smith, wealth will not be dangerous. I shall be ever present with you in your works.”

After some moments of rest, necessitated by his extreme feebleness, Captain Nemo continued as follows:—

“To-morrow, you will take this coffer, you will leave this saloon, and close the door; then you will ascend to the platform of the Nautilus and you will bolt down the hatchway.”

“We will do it, sir,” replied Smith.

“Very well. You will then embark in the boat which brought you here. But, before abandoning the Nautilus, go to the stern, and there, open two large cocks which you will find at the water-line. The water will penetrate and the Nautilus will sink beneath the waves and rest upon the bottom of the abyss.”

Then, upon a gesture from Smith, the Captain added:—

“Fear nothing! you will only be burying the dead!”

Neither Smith nor his companions could say a word to Captain Nemo. These were his last wishes, and they had nothing else to do but obey them.

“I have your promise?” asked Captain Nemo.

“You have it, sir,” answered the engineer.

The Captain made a sign thanking them, and then motioned to be left alone for a few hours. Spilett insisted on remaining with him, in case of an emergency, but the other refused, saying:—

“I will live till morning, sir.”

All left the salon, passing through the library, the dining-room, and reached the forward part of the vessel, where the electric apparatus, furnishing heat, light, and motive power to the Nautilus was placed.

The Nautilus was a chef-d’oeuvre containing chefs-d’oeuvre, which filled the engineer with amazement.

The colonists mounted the platform, which rose seven or eight feet above the water. Then they saw a thick lenticular glass closing up a sort of bull’s-eye, through which penetrated a ray of light. Behind this bull’s-eye was the wheel-house, where the steersman stood when directing the Nautilus under the sea, by means of the electric light.

Smith and his companions stood here in silence, impressed by what they saw, and what they had heard, and their hearts bled to think that he, their protector, whose arm had been so often raised to aid them, would soon be counted among the dead.

Whatever would be the judgment of posterity upon this, so to say, extra-human existence, Prince Dakkar would always remain one of those strange characters who cannot be forgotten.

“What a man!” said Pencroff. “Is it credible that he has lived so at the bottom of the ocean! And to think that he has not found rest even there!”

“The Nautilus,” observed Ayrton, “would, perhaps, have served us to leave Lincoln Island and gain some inhabited country.”

“A thousand devils!” cried Pencroff. “You couldn’t get me to steer such a craft. To sail over the seas is all very well, but under the seas,—no, sir!”

“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 1 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